


Derek Hale's Sixteen Step Plan for Self-Improvement (or: You're 30 now, Derek, time to pull your shit together)

by planiforidjit



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Derek Hale's hairy thighs, Derek is going to date someone else in this, Derek/OMC - Freeform, Kinda, M/M, Peter Halle/Chris Argent, Sheriff Stilinksi/Melissa McCall, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Slow Burn, but Sterek is obviously where it ends up, derek has a beard, post season five
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-31 13:53:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13976508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planiforidjit/pseuds/planiforidjit
Summary: Derek has this fantasy. It's an entirely healthy fantasy that involves him and Stiles swimming at night. They could be naked but they don't have to be. And they swim around and Derek kisses Stiles under the stars and then maybe they go back inside and take a shower together or have sex on the dock or something.Derek isn't entirely picky on how the evening ends as long as there are orgasms and Stiles.And maybe—if everything was really perfect—Derek would tell Stiles that he's been in love with him since Stiles was seventeen and would really like to spend the rest of his life with him please and thank you.Oh.And there's something in the woods.





	1. Step One: Make a Step-by-Step Plan for Self-Improvement

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know I have another unfinished fic, but I've been working on this one for a while and I just like writing it better right now, so here it is. 
> 
> The rating right now is mature, but it'll maybe be explicit, I haven't gotten to that part of it yet tbh. 
> 
> There is a lot of exposition at the beginning here, but it'll be short lived. Also I KNOW that Derek's birthday is like maybe on Christmas, but also that's maybe not a thing? But I don't care. In the great tradition of Teen Wolf, I am changing canonical details to fit the plot. I'm also leaving out season six only because I started writing this before season six and I disagree with Stiles becoming a federal agent. 
> 
> Hopefully this will update weekly, but I'll let you know if it's not going to.

Derek does not rebuild the Hale house on the patch of land where it had burned down when he came back from wherever it is that he was (mostly South America with Cora). The city had turned the land into a sort of memorial park. One that had plaques for his lost family members and a community garden his mom would have liked and a playground for kids who weren't totally uncomfortable with the idea that they were playing in a cemetery.

Stiles assures him that before public parks, large cemeteries were a place for people to spend time outdoors, having picnics and going for walks. It's only recently that it's strange to hang out in cemeteries.

Derek does, of course, build a new home. He builds it next to a small pond in the preserve. A large home with multiple bedrooms for the pack, and a large open living room/kitchen/dining room perfect for holiday dinners and group brunches and parties.

Derek grants the rest of the land that the Hales owned to the city. He just stipulates that on full moons he and the pack have full run of the place without fear of being interrupted. After most of Beacon Hills was taken and put in a weird sort of train purgatory by the Wild Hunt seven years earlier, people have generally given up on ignoring the town's supernatural problem and embraced it.

There was a new supernatural department in the police force, Beacon Hills University started offering classes in folklore and supernatural traditions that people took seriously, there was a supernatural community center that offered group meetings for families dealing with lycanthropy, group therapy for victims of the trauma Beacon Hills inflicted, and cooking classes among other things.

The Beacon Hills Derek came back to was a completely different Beacon Hills than the one Derek left. Of course there is still Scott's pack running around, though it's different than it was when Derek left. Malia joins a pack of coyotes in Portland, Kira is still in the desert? Derek isn't totally sure and neither is Scott.

Lydia teaches at BHU and Stiles is in PhD program there. Liam and Mason went to college in New York and come back for holidays, but rarely at all. Chris and Isaac are back. Chris lives in the loft building Derek still owns, Isaac was living with him until Derek came back and Isaac decided it was weird to be living with a guy who was nearly fifty years old no matter how dead his family is or how blue his eyes are. 

In September, once Derek has been back for a little over a year, the house is finally finished. Really finished. With furniture and paint and decorations and pictures on the walls. It also happens to be Derek's 30th birthday.

Scott suggests a housewarming/birthday barbecue, Stiles and Lydia take it to another level. Derek isn't left with much of a choice.

Derek and Scott are sent out to the store with a list early in the day.

"How many people are coming?" Derek asks, while they drive.

Scott has the list on his phone and seems to be receiving continuous text updates from Stiles. Derek is supposed to pay attention to the road, but it's hard when Scott's phone keeps making noises.

Scott shakes his head. "Judging by the list, three hundred."

Derek sighs. "I don't think I know three hundred people."

Scott types something on his phone quickly. "Me neither."

They each have a cart at the grocery store. Derek quickly realizes that it's going to be _that_ kind of shopping trip when he starts putting the meat into his cart and sends Scott to get another one.

"You know, I don't know if I ever said thank you for letting me move in," says Scott, lifting cases of beer and wine into his cart.

Isaac invited Scott to live with them. Scott had been complaining about rent prices in Beacon Hills being "too damn high" when Isaac suggested living in the newly built house for free.

Derek shrugs. "That's kind of the point of the house."

"Yeah, but you know. You didn't have to let me."

Derek doesn't like where this is going. They're getting into feelings territory and he is not here for it. He goes to therapy, even leads a group therapy session along with a social worker at the community center, but he's not ready to star talking with other people about it.

Derek isn't sure what monosyllabic response will convey that he is very happy that he and Scott are no longer enemies and are even very good friends. And that he really trusts and loves Scott and is happy to have him live in his home. He wants nothing more than to be surrounded by pack.

"It's fine," Derek grunts.

Scott nods. "Are you excited for the party?"

Derek has to search for another response to convey that he is excited. He never thought that he'd be able to spend another birthday surrounded by friends and the people that he loves and the sheer emotion of that is a little overwhelming.

"Yeah."

\---

There are balloons and streamers and pastel triangle bunting on the front porch when Derek and Scott get back from the grocery store a few hours later. It's got that brightly colored manic vibe that tells Derek that Stiles was in charge of decoration shopping, but is done in a tasteful way that tells him that Lydia had plenty of say in it.

Scott gestures at it with an awkward hand. "Stiles..."

Derek nods and starts unloading the groceries from the car. They bring the bags in and set them on the large farmhouse table that Derek found at a yard sale and paid too much money for, but is extremely proud of and they unload the groceries into the fridge and pantry.

Stiles comes in from outside, wiping sweat from his forehead and grinning. Stiles had already grown into himself before Derek left. He shoulders were already broad and his face grown up. But when Derek came back Stiles was different, confident in a way that Derek never was. He seemed so comfortable in his body that Derek envied him and everyone he got to be with. There were lots of people, Derek heard, at least before Stiles started his PhD program. More than he's comfortable with admitting. 

"We're almost done setting up outside," Stiles says, breathing a little heavily.

Derek isn't entirely sure how the students Stiles TA's handle him. Derek can barely handle him and Stiles isn't even wearing a suit.

"Great." Scott pulls two wolfsbane beers and a regular beer from the fridge. "Then we can start on food."

The other plus side of Beacon Hills getting on the supernatural train is that they can now buy wolfsbane beer and wine and laced weed. Turns out most of the weres missed getting a little fucked up now and then.

Scott tosses Derek a wolfsbane beer and Stiles a human one. Derek catches it and cracks it open, taking a long drink before he can obsess too much about the way Stiles does the same.

Throats, man. Stiles' throat in particular.

Derek is told that he can't decorate and when Isaac arrives with a large white cake-shaped box, Derek is shooed from the room.

"If you aren't going to let me help with anything I'm just going to do whatever I want," Derek says.

"Duh," says Scott. "It's your birthday."

Derek glares at them. "I'm going swimming."

"Wait!" Stiles shouts, but it's too late. Derek steps outside into the back yard and it's…

"Jesus," Derek breathes.

It's maybe the most perfect thing Derek has ever seen. Which he doesn't say out loud because he can't. There are tables set up and balloons and streamers and flowers on the tables and a cooler full of beer. And then there are the fairy lights strung between the trees that look magical in the setting sun, lanterns hanging from the branches. 

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Stiles says.

Derek smiles because he can't help it. "It is a surprise."

"Yeah. But it was supposed to be a surprise later."

"I live here. It's hard to keep things from me."

Stiles snorts. "No kidding."

"Did you and Lydia do all this?" Derek asks without kissing Stiles, which he considers quite the feat.

Stiles shrugs. "Happy birthday."

"This is—it's amazing."

Stiles tips an imaginary hat at him. "Anytime, big guy." He rocks back on his heels. "Well, I guess Ill go back inside."

"Okay." Derek turns towards the pond. "You don't want to come with me?"

"I'm okay," says Stiles. "I gotta go help with the food."

"Right," Derek says.

Derek has this fantasy. It's an entirely healthy fantasy that involves him and Stiles swimming at night. Maybe with all the lights Stiles has put up around the back yard and little dock leading into the pond. They could be naked but they don't have to be. And they swim around and Derek kisses Stiles under the stars and then maybe they go back inside and take a shower together or have sex on the dock or something.

Derek isn't entirely picky on how the evening ends as long as there are orgasms and Stiles.

And maybe—if everything was really perfect—Derek would tell Stiles that he's been in love with him since Stiles was seventeen and would really like to spend the rest of his life with him please and thank you.

Stiles heads inside and Derek strips by the water. He's got a pair of swim trunks slung over the railing on the steps leading down to the small dock. Normally, when it's just the pack, it doesn't matter if he's naked or not. But there are people who aren't pack coming - people like John Stilinski who might actually know that Derek is in love with Stiles and isn't saying anything about it either out of minding his own business or hating Derek. He can and has put Derek in jail and Derek isn't going to risk that happening again.

He pulls on the swim trunks and dives into the water.

\---

John and Melissa show up first and John takes over the grill. Then Chris and Peter. Derek thinks they might be dating, but he's not entirely sure. They show up to places together. Derek once saw them sitting on the patio of a bar together, drinking rosé and eating tapas. That seemed very date-like. But neither would confirm nor deny what was going on with them. 

After Chris and Peter comes Parrish in a tight t-shirt and jeans that make Derek blush. Derek might be secretly in love with Stiles but that doesn't mean he's _blind_.

Derek kind of hopes that's it. Nine people. But then there are people from around town. People that Derek has been interacting with over the last year while he's been rebuilding the home. The guy who did the kitchen and his crew, the woman who works at the book store downtown who Derek now sees on a regular basis. Scott's new girlfriend, who will probably be an ex-girlfriend in a few days, but Derek isn't going to say anything about it.

Danny shows up with Ethan, who is back now. And Deaton is suddenly over by the grill eating a hot dog. There are people from the small grief group Derek is a part of at the community center and a girl from the coffee shop that keeps looking over at him and biting her lip.

The party gets large and crowded quickly. People are dancing and eating and swimming in the lake. There are drinks and food being passed around and there's a pile of presents for Derek that keeps growing. Derek reminds himself that it's not just his birthday, it's a housewarming party. And something like this is just as much for them as it is for him.

It doesn't make it less hard or overwhelming. Derek heads inside to the kitchen to get away. Just for a moment. He makes up an excuse about getting a drink.

"Hey, Derek. Wait."

Stiles shuts the door to the kitchen and puts his hand on Derek's arm. His hands are still wet from swimming and Derek tries very hard not to react to any of it, but he doesn't think he succeeds and he wants Stiles to know that it's not because he doesn't want him to touch him, but because he wants it maybe too much and is trying to not be inappropriate.

"What's up?"

Stiles smells concerned, maybe nervous. Derek isn't sure where to place all the smells that are coming his way.

"Can I give you your gift now?" Stiles asks.

"Oh, you didn't have to - " 

"Shut up," Stiles says. "Yeah I did. Come on."

He pulls Derek through the house and out the front door to his dad's car. The jeep died last summer. There was a small ceremony. Stiles and Scott wept, Derek pulled a muscle in his face from rolling his eyes. Now Stiles rides a bike most places and drives his dad's car when he's able. 

Stiles opens the passenger's side door and pulls out a small present wrapped in newspaper and tied with a piece of gold ribbon.

"Here." Stiles thrusts that package at Derek's chest.

"Thanks, Stiles."

Stiles blushes in splotchy patches of red all over his face and neck and Derek wants to kiss his cheeks. "You don't even know what it is yet."

Derek shakes his head. "Doesn't matter."

"It could be anything, dude."

"It's probably not going to kill me."

"Just open it."

Derek tears off the bow and paper with one precise swipe of his claw. He pulls out a small black leather notebook. He opens the first page. It's blank. When he looks up at Stiles, Stiles is worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

"Okay," Stiles says too quickly. "I was just thinking that you're like doing positive life things and whatever and you're thirty and I know it's not supposed to be a big deal, but it's a pretty big deal. You've survived a lot and like I started journaling to deal with shit over the last few years and so I thought you could like do whatever you want with this, but like maybe writing things down wouldn't be the worst, or you could just use it to make lists."

Derek nods. He has to swallow around a lump in his throat. It's not really that emotional a gift. It's just a blank notebook. But he chokes out a, "Yeah." And then it takes him a couple more moments to get it together enough to say. "Thanks, Stiles. Really."

"You like it?" Stiles asks.

"Yeah. I really like it."

"Cool," Stiles says. "You're like the Derek Hale Self-Improvement Project, so I just wanted to help you out with it." Stiles hugs Derek tightly and Derek is so glad that Stiles can't smell everything that Derek is feeling right now. "Happy birthday, dude."

Derek sucks in a breath. He does not try to taste how Stiles smells (like cinnamon and rain and home and sex and crushing self-doubt). "Thanks, Stiles."

Derek is maybe going to say something else. Maybe try to kiss Stiles because he has had a few beers and is freaking out in his own way. But his ears perk up at the sound of tires crunching on the long gravel driveway.

Derek pulls away from Stiles. "More people? Do I know anyone else?"

Stiles laughs, standing to Derek's side. "Yeah. I think you know this person."

Derek doesn't recognize the blue rental car that pulls up to the house, but he does recognize the foot that kicks the door open with just a little too much force. Derek looks to Stiles, who just grins and doesn't look away from the car.

Derek hasn't seen Cora in over a year. She doesn't want to come back to Beacon Hills and she told Derek that he could visit her whenever he wanted to, but he hasn't had time to take her up on it.

He never expected her here. At his new house. Closing the door to a rental car like she was mad at it.

"Cora," he breathes.

"What's up, D?"

Her back makes a suspicious cracking noise when Derek hugs her, but after a little bit of sweating she seems fine.

"You're here," Derek says to her.

"Yeah." She laughs. "I'm here."

\---

After they eat a large sheet cake that says "Happy Birthday Sourwolf!" Cora and Derek sit on the end of the dock, kicking lazy patterns in the water with their feet. Stiles, Lydia, Scott, and Scott's new girlfriend are playing beer pong in the yard. Parrish and the girl from the coffee shop are wading around the lake with Ethan and Danny. Chris and Peter disappeared somewhere. Melissa and John left a while ago. 

There's low music playing from speakers attached to someone's phone and the fairy lights are still bright and there's a soft breeze. It's everything Derek could have ever wanted.

"You look happy," Cora says.

"It's a good party."

"Yeah, but like even when you were rid of this place you didn't look happy."

"I mean I'm not entirely happy all the time. I'm still working on stuff. I still have stuff to do."

"Yeah, but you look good. This house - it's amazing. It doesn't really make me that sad." 

"You could stay here. There's space for you."

" _Woah_. No. I mean I think I can come up for holidays now probably, but I'm not living here. I'm not leaving Lima for this. Not yet."

"Okay." Derek puts up his hands. "I get it."

"Good." She links his arm through his and leans her head on his shoulder. "So. The big 3-0."

"Yeah."

"Do you feel old?"

Derek shakes his head. "Nope."

"What are your big plans for thirty?"

"Do you want the serious answer or the light answer?"

"I think I deserve the serious answer."

"I'm going to work on doing thing for myself," he says. "Be the best I can be."

"You're pretty great."

"Not but like self-love and stuff."

"Okay. So what does that entail?"

"I don't know."

She squeezes his arm. "Could it entail a certain annoying PhD student?"

Derek shrugs and he's glad that it's dark so Cora can't see him blush. She probably does hear the way his heartbeat ticks up.

"It wouldn't be the worst thing," she says. "You and Stiles."

"I think I need to try to date other people. Just - Stiles can't be the first step, you know."

"I mean you've only known him for ten years."

"Nine," Derek says like it matters. "But I need not serious getting to know people before Stiles. It makes sense."

"If you insist."

"I insist."

"I'm going to dance," Cora pushes herself into a standing position. "Stiles!" she shouts running towards the beer pong table. "Come dance with me!"

Cora grabs Stiles' hand and pulls him away from the game of beer pong. Stiles meets Derek's eyes and shrugs. He laughs loudly when Cora pulls him closer to the speakers.

Derek stands up from the dock and watches as the dance party unfolds in front of him. Danny, Ethan, Parrish, and Coffee Girl run out of the water to join. and Lydia eventually comes over and takes Derek's hand and pulls him into tiny dance party.  

Then, somehow, he ends up with Stiles. With Stiles' hand in his, his other hand on Stiles' shoulder, Stiles' fingers hot against the small of his back.

"This was a good party," Stiles says.

"Yeah," Derek says. "Thanks, Stiles. This was the best birthday I've ever had."

"Yeah, well it's not like they've probably been really great."

"For my 28th birthday I drank tequila on the beach in Mexico," Derek says.

"Okay. Well, you don't have to rub it in."

"But for my twenty-second birthday I was stabbed and thought I might bleed out in my family's burned out home."

"See, we did much better than that."

"You did." Derek's eyes find Cora's over Stiles' shoulder and she makes a rude gesture with her tongue and her finger. "And you got Cora to come."

"It was less difficult than you think."

"Still. It was really great."

"Well, dude. Anytime. I think I'm pretty good at the whole party thing." Stiles pauses and seems to try to focus on himself, but he looks over Derek's shoulder towards the water and the trees. "Do you mind if I crash here tonight? I don't think I can get home."

"Yeah," Derek says when he means to say, _please. Stay forever._

"Great. Thanks, Derek. I'm glad you're back."

"Me too." Derek pauses. Takes a breath so deep he can taste Stiles' scent on the back of his tongue. "You know you could move in. There's a room for you."

Stiles freezes for just a second before he keeps dancing. "You know I can't leave my dad yet. You get it, don't you, Derek? You get it more than anyone."

Derek nods. He does get it more than anyone. But he also wants Stiles to sleep in his home. He wants to take care of Stiles when he needs it. And Stiles has slept over, Derek has made him meals. It's just not the same as Stiles having a bedroom.

"You get me," Stiles says, his voice softer even than it was before. "More than anyone, you and I are on the same page."

Derek snorts. "Because we're the smartest ones here."

"Except Lydia."

"Of course."

Stiles rests his head on Derek's shoulder. He sighs. "I could just sleep right here."

And Derek wishes he had the courage to tell Stiles he _could_ sleep right there. He could sleep right there whenever he wanted. But he doesn't. So he just rests his cheek against Stiles' hair and continues to dance.

\---

That night in bed, Derek pulls out the journal Stiles got him and opens to the first page. In big block letters across the top of the page he writes: DEREK HALE'S SELF IMPROVEMENT PLAN

  * Step One: Make a step-by-step plan for self-improvement
  * Step Two: Cultivate relationships (sign up for a dating app/spend more time with the pack/be vulnerable and be your authentic self)
  * Step Three: New clothes?
  * Step Four: NEW CAR
  * Step Five: Actually go on a date, you stupid cowardly idiot (and don't have sex with them right away)
  * Step Six: Learn to bake bread
  * Step Seven: Dry clean your leather jacket (it stinks, you spend all your time with people with a heightened sense of smell and you stink)
  * Step Eight: Watch a movie that makes you cry
  * Step Nine: Work in the garden (your mom loved that--do it for Talia)
  * Step Ten: Talk to Peter? Handle Peter?
  * Step Eleven: Show the people you love that you love them (in a normal way, don't kill something for them)
  * Step Twelve: Flowers?!?!?! For your home?!?!?!?!
  * Step Thirteen: Look at yourself naked (stop hating your body, it's healthy to look at yourself naked)
  * Step Fourteen: Talk to someone (Stiles--you mean Stiles) about your feelings
  * Step Fifteen: Get laid (make good choices, pick someone you know, maybe talk about it first)
  * Step Sixteen: Live happily ever after (this isn't a Disney movie, but it could be)



Derek reads over the plan, a little pleased with himself. He's thirty now and if he was ever going to be his best self this is the time to do it. 

He makes a check mark next to step one.


	2. Step Two: Cultivate Relationships

Stiles is writing a paper on the dock. All stretched out with his pen in hand, poised over a piece of notebook paper. He's surrounded by books and papers weighted down with rocks so they don't fly into the lake. Stiles bites the end of his pen and looks up towards the woods. He narrows his eyes and shakes his head, mutters something to himself before returning to work.

Derek imagines that scene from love actually. Which is a stupid scene, in retrospect. And if anyone is Colin Firth, it's Derek. But maybe for the sake of the fantasy, Stiles is Colin Firth and Derek is the poor Portuguese woman that Colin Firth might buy.

It's a flawed fantasy. But most of Derek's are.

The point is they could be in the water together shivering and close and fall in love over that maybe.

Except the water is warm and Derek is swimming laps while Cora and Isaac play chicken with Lydia and Parrish. It's not all that romantic. Even if the sunlight makes Stiles sparkle and Derek has to stop every few seconds to stare at him.

Derek bites the bullet and swims over to the dock. He rests his arms on the edge and stares at Stiles.

It takes Stiles a few seconds to notice that he's there. He smiles, though, and it makes Derek's stomach flutter.

"You should come swimming," Derek says.

"I have to finish a few things," Stiles says. "Then I'll swim."

"Okay." Derek doesn't know what to do so he says, "I'm thinking of joining a dating site. Like an app or something."

Stiles stares down at his notes. His heartbeat is steady. After years of spending time with wolves and lying on polygraph tests, Stiles heartbeat is unreliable for reactions.

"Um - do you - I know you've used apps before," Derek says after waiting for Stiles to speak. "Do you - "

"I haven't in a while." Stiles looks up at Derek and smiles. He sparkles in the sun in a very attractive way. Not in an actually sparkling way. Derek just thinks he looks beautiful. He contemplates drowning himself in favor of never finishing this conversation.

"Oh."

"You know PhD program and all. It's difficult. But – uh - yeah. I used like Tinder and Grindr and whatever. But we should swim!"

Stiles starts stuffing his papers in his bag.

"Oh," Derek says. "I thought - "

"Nah." Stiles zips up his bag and pulls off his shirt. "I want to swim."

He stands and jumps over Derek's head and into the water.

Derek wades over to Stiles as he resurfaces, spitting water out of his mouth and shaking out his hair. Derek is angry at himself for being so attracted to him. He feels so awkward even though he shouldn't. If there's anyone he shouldn't feel awkward about it's Stiles.

"Chill," Derek hears Cora whisper. Too low for the humans to hear. Just for Derek. Then she shrieks as she topples from Isaac's shoulders.

Stiles opens his mouth to say something, but he freezes, his eyes sliding to the spice just to the left of Derek’s ear. Derek turns around. There’s nothing behind them. Just the woods.

“Did you see that?” Stiles asks.

Derek shakes his head. “What was it?”

Stiles’ face goes funny for a second and then he shrugs. “Nothing. I don’t know.”

He shrieks and dunks Derek under the water. Derek lets him.

\---

They're watching _Say Yes To The Dress_ on Derek's big leather couches. It's supposed to be pack bonding night where they run around in the woods and watch action movies. But since Isaac and Scott live in the house and Cora is staying for an undisclosed amount of time, every night is pack bonding night. So, they just ordered pizza and wings and are watching whatever is on TV.

Stiles is sitting on the floor, staring at his laptop with his pen in his mouth. It's still only September and Stiles is only three weeks into classes and he already looks overwhelmed. Scott and his new girlfriend—not the girl he brought to Derek's party—are sprawled out on one couch with Isaac. Cora and Parrish have made up a drinking game. There are a lot of rules and a bottle of champagne and Derek isn't really sure he follows.

They're very drunk.

Lydia nudges Derek's shoulder and sits down on the couch next to him. She has her laptop under her arm and two wolfsbane beers in her hands.

"Stiles told me you want to do online dating," she says, voice low. She hands Derek a beer and takes a sip of her own.

Stiles turns to face them. "What did I tell you?"

"That Derek wanted to online date," Lydia says before Derek can stop her.

The room falls silent. Except Cora who yells, "Oh come on that dress is from a fucking fairytale!" She loses her balance as she focuses back on Derek. "Wait - what? Derek!"

"He's branching out," Lydia says, ruffling Derek's hair.

Only Lydia can do that. Maybe Stiles could, but Lydia is the only person Derek is too scared of to bite back.

"I think it's a really good idea man," Scott says. He points to the new girl. "Tinder is the best."

New Girl nods. "It's really great. I'm talking to like six dudes."

"Hey!" Scott says. "What about me?"

"Am I the only one you're talking to?"

Scott laughs. "That's fair."

Cora narrows her eyes at Derek. "This for dudes or ladies?"

"Or both," Lydia says. She's on an _Atlantic_ article about the best dating apps for people in their thirties. Derek resents people saying he's in his thirties when he's only just thirty, but it's fine. He gets it kind of. "I don't think you want Tinder though, right?"

"Right," Derek croaks.

Stiles pushes himself up from the ground and squeezes himself onto the couch next to Lydia. "No hook-ups."

Derek shakes his head. "No."

"What are your thoughts on gender?" Lydia asks typing something into the computer and then taking Derek's phone from the coffee table where he left it earlier. He doesn't even argue.

He shrugs. "I guess I'm pretty neutral on gender, but like I might be more into men right now."

Stiles' heart does a little stutter and Derek knows that his heart isn't always reliable, but it makes his heart stutter a little too.

Lydia starts typing on her computer and pursing her lips.

"What is your job?" Lydia asks, raising an eyebrow at Derek.

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist." Stiles laughs at his own joke.

"None of those things," Derek says. “Also that joke is like seven years old.”

“Oh god,” Stiles says, clutching his chest. “We’re so old.”

"Maybe philanthropist," Lydia says. "You did fund the community center."

"Philanthropist isn't a job," Derek says. "And I only funded it so I could go to group therapy so really I only had my self-interest at heart. I don't want to seem pretentious."

"Yeah," Scott says with a smile. "Let them figure that out on their own."

Derek huffs. "I'm not pretentious."

" _Derek_. Look at your house."

"Didn't you major in English?" Stiles asks. "That's very pretentious."

"I like nice things," Derek says. He takes a sip of his beer and crosses his arms over his chest. "I am practicing self-care and I won't be made to feel badly about it."

Stiles snorts, which was exactly what Derek wanted.

"I'm just putting down that you work at the community center," Lydia says.

"Okay," Derek says.

He feels a little sick right now, if he's being honest. He's overwhelmed by everyone being there. He wishes Stiles was doing work or something, not squished onto the couch next to Lydia. He doesn't want to ask Stiles out yet. Not until he's become his best self. But he also doesn't want Stiles to be involved in this. He doesn't want them to just be friends who help with each other's love life.

\---

Derek wakes up in the middle of the night, uneasy and a little sick feeling. It's not a sudden sitting up in bed and breathing hard thing. It's blinking awake and feeling strange. Like he forgot to do something really important. It makes his shoulders ache and his stomach squirm.

He sits up in bed and turns on the light. He sniffs the air. His phone is lit up with messages from the dating app. He scrolls through to see if there's anything from his pack. Something that might tell him why he feels so uneasy.

But there's nothing.

It makes sense to pull on sweat pants and go for a run.

\---

He finds Stiles sitting in the middle of the Nematon, legs crossed, eyes closed, wearing his pajamas. Derek approaches cautiously. He doesn't feel uneasy about it, but he's wary. He has to be when it comes to Stiles.

Stiles opens one eye and Derek sighs. It's definitely him. Not something pretending to be him.

"Hey, Derek," Stiles says.

For just a second Derek thinks he would be okay with having sex on the Nematon. You know. If Stiles wanted.

"Hey," Derek says. He comes over and pushes himself up onto the large stump next to Stiles. "Why are you out here?"

Stiles shrugs. "I felt like I should be. That's weird right?"

"Yeah."

"I mean less weird than it could be with someone else. There's the whole spark thing. And the nogitsune."

"You got rid of the nogitsune."

"I know." He waves a hand in the air. "Doesn't mean it didn't leave something that makes me want to be out here behind. Oh! Look what I can do now."

Stiles puts out his hand and a blue light appears in his palm.

Derek let's out a breath. "Wow. Where'd you learn to do that?"

"I just can now."

“Do you think - is that a good thing?”

Stiles’ nose scrunches. “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel evil.”

Derek rubs a hand over his face. "You know Deaton was my mother's emissary."

"I do. I don't think I can find Deaton to train me. I haven't seen him since your birthday."

"No. I mean you could - you could be my emissary. You know officially. You basically are. But for the pack."

"I don't listen to you."

"That's kind of the point. A good pack has two alphas. I need some push back if I'm going to lead it well. You already do it anyway.”

"Now that nothing bad happens anymore."

"I doubt that's the case. It's just quiet right now." Derek stands and brushes off his pants. He offers a hand for Stiles. "Come on. Sleep at the house."

Stiles grabs Derek's hand and pulls himself up. "I'm not moving in yet."

"That's fine." Derek laughs to himself. "Your dad will kick you out eventually."

Stiles grins. "But he hasn't yet."

\---

Derek lays in bed staring at the ceiling. Stiles is curled in a ball facing away from him. Stiles could have taken one of the many guest rooms or even crawled in with Scott, but he went straight to Derek's bedroom. Derek can't say no to him.

Derek scrolls through messages from the dating app. They're all kind of gross. This isn't supposed to be a hook up app, but all the messages make it seem like it is.

"Hey Derek," Stiles says, voice tiny and adorable. Derek wishes they could wake up and he could bring him breakfast and kiss him on the forehead.

"Yeah?" Derek asks.

"Do you think there's something in the woods?"

"Something other than you?"

"Yeah. I don't know. I felt weird out there tonight. Like something was watching us."

"I couldn't smell anything, but I'll check tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks." Stiles rolls over to face Derek and he reaches out to squeeze Derek's arm. "For real, Derek. You're the best."

Derek blushes. "Go to sleep, Stiles."

"Learn to take a compliment."

Derek rolls away from Stiles. "Goodnight."

Stiles chuckles and Derek takes a long time to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the Say Yes to the Dress drinking game: 
> 
> Every game must start with a celebratory champagne toast. 
> 
> Drink if:  
> -She's tried on more than thirty dresses  
> -She cries  
> -A parent is dead  
> -She and her fiancé met under tragic circumstances  
> -Mom makes her try on a dress she doesn't want  
> -Her maid of honor makes it about herself  
> -Drink every time employees don't agree
> 
> Shots if:  
> -She lost a lot of weight for the wedding  
> -Surprise pregnancy  
> -Every time an outrageous dress works  
> -She's gay! (these are celebratory shots)  
> -She only tries on one dress and loves it


	3. New Clothes?

Scott and Isaac stomp around the preserve making no effort to be silent or even wolflike. Scott keeps stumbling upon baby animals and picking them up to nuzzle them. Derek isn't sure where the baby animals are coming from but it's like they're showing up specifically for Scott to be cute with them. Isaac growled at a deer.

"What are we even looking for?" Scott asks, setting a bunny down on the ground and watching her hop away.

"I don't know," Derek says. "Just something. Stiles says he felt something."

"Fuckin' Stiles." Isaac kicks a rock and Scott growls.

"My best friend," Scott says. "And you like him now."

"Yeah, but Derek would do anything for him." Isaac gestures at the woods around them. "Case and point."

"If Stiles felt uneasy then I trust his feeling," Derek growls, scenting the air for something – anything - to prove Stiles right.

"Why don't you two just fuck already and leave us out of it."

Scott's eyes go soft and he stops where he's bending down to pet a small family of salamanders. "Do you love him, Derek?"

Derek shakes his head. "I'm doing the dating app."

"That doesn't mean anything," Scott says, getting closer to him. "You smell like you love him."

"I don't think that's - "

"You are literally the one who taught me about chemo signals. Actually, you taught me about Stiles’ chemo signals. _Oh my god_. Have you been in love with him forever?"

"Whatever. I don't _love_ him."

Isaac smirks. "He loves him."

Scott tilts his head to the side like a goddamn puppy. "Why don't you just ask him out?"

Derek sighs, his phone blips with a new message from the app. "It's complicated."

"Why does it have to be complicated?"

"Because I can't just ask Stiles out." Derek scents the air again for something he can kill. "It's not that easy."

"Why not?"

He could just murder Scott. It would probably hurt in the plan to spend the rest of his life with Stiles, but Stiles would probably get over it. He might even understand.

"Because I have to be my best before I ask Stiles out. I can't just expect him to want me when I've barely had a healthy relationship since he's known me. How am I supposed to make a case for myself if I can't take care of myself?"

"You literally built a house," Scott says. "That seems like you can take care of yourself."

"A house Stiles won't move in to."

"Oh my god." Isaac stops. "Did you build the house for Stiles?"

Derek isn't sure why he can't hide any of his emotions anymore, but maybe that's just Stiles. "No."

"You're the worst at lying. I thought we had established this?"

"I didn't just build it for Stiles. I obviously built it for everyone. But I hoped Stiles would move in. I want him to know I can take care of him."

Scott squeals. "That's the nicest thing I've ever heard."

Isaac pretends to vomit.

Derek sighs. "It's stupid." He kicks s rock. "I'm not smelling anything weird out here. I'm not even noticing a lack of smells. Nothing is being covered up. I hate to tell Stiles that."

"Because you love him," Scott says.

"Because he's worried about something and we can't figure out what it is."

"And also you love him."

\---

Derek is talking to three people who aren't total creeps on the app. He isn't sure that he wants to meet anyone yet, but they're getting there quickly. Eventually he's going to have to accept a coffee date.

He needs new clothes. Not that he doesn't have nice clothes, but maybe something other than tight, dark jeans and Henleys. He knows it’s a good look, but he’s branching. He likes other things. He likes florals and cotton t-shirts and khaki pants and maybe he wants to look a little less like he’s trying to hide something.

He’s not trying to hide anything anymore.

He texts Lydia, asking her if she’s free to shop a little, and she calls.

“I already told Cora,” Lydia says when Derek answers. “I am done teaching at four, I’ll pick up you guys up after that.”

At that moment Cora bursts into Derek’s bedroom. He honestly thought she had gone back to Peru. He hasn’t seen her in a couple of days. He just figured she never said goodbye. She tackles him into his bed.

“Thank god you’re getting new clothes,” she says into his back and Lydia says something, but Derek’s phone went flying when Cora attacked. “You’re like a fucking cartoon character wearing the same thing every day.”

“I don’t wear the same thing,” Derek huffs.

“Yes, you do,” Lydia says.

Derek hangs up his phone without saying goodbye. 

\---

Lydia and Cora are unbearable at the mall. Derek didn’t even know so many stores carried men’s clothing. He doesn’t really shop at all. He looks good in the things he has and the things he has can be bought at target with little to no thought. 

He makes the mistake of shrugging when Lydia asks him what his budget is. And he ends up in a large dressing room getting naked in front of his sister and the banshee that somehow became his best friend. 

He doesn’t hate the clothes they pick out for him. He wanted florals and brighter colors. He wanted to feel comfy and happy. Lily and Cora get that. He just hates changing in front of them and he hates their constant commentary. 

“Stiles is going to love that,” Lydia says when he pulls a blue sweater over his head. 

She and Cora have been saying that on and off the whole shopping trip. He’s pretty sure that they’re trying to be supportive and Stiles is endgame. But it’s driving him insane. 

“I’m not doing this for Stiles,” he says finally, feeling a little like he might explode. He’s a little sweaty and he’s hungry and he wishes he had gone running instead. He needs to work out or chase something. “This is for me. I want this.” 

Lydia narrows her eyes at him. “I thought this was a while making Stiles jealous get even hotter thing?” 

“No. This is a me becoming my own person thing.” 

“Interesting,” Cora says. “So you don’t want to fuck Stiles?” 

Derek blushes. “I’m not saying - eventually I’d like to date Stiles, but I want to figure out myself first.” 

“If he dates Stiles he has to be serious about it,” Lydia says to Cora. 

Cora rolls her eyes. “No, I get that.” 

“So, you never liked all the dark clothes?” Lydia asks. 

“He was exuding inner pain,” Cora says with a snort. 

Derek doesn’t point out that Cora dresses nearly the same as he does and he thought she was dead for years. That’s a lot of pain. 

“When are you going back to Peru?” he asks Cora and she lets out a loud laugh. 

“I thought you wanted me to move in with you.” 

“I thought you didn’t want to.” 

“I might stay for a while. See if I get comfy. I’m having a good time.” 

Derek’s face goes warm. He wants Cora to stay forever. He even wishes Peter lived with him even though it would be disastrous. He wants all of his family in one place. 

He coughs. “You could get a job at the community center.” 

“I’m still coasting on insurance and inheritance money,” she says. “Don’t act like you aren’t too.” 

The jeans in Derek’s hands are three hundred dollars. But they feel great. He lets out a little surprised laugh. 

“Yeah. I guess I am.” 

On the way out of the mall Cora links her arm through Derek’s and then shakes her head. She pulls away from him. 

“We don’t really do that,” she says. 

“We don’t,” Derek agrees. 

Lydia walks ahead of them like she knows they need a moment to themselves. They still speak low enough so that no one can hear them. 

“Being back doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would,” Cora says. “I never got why you keep coming back here - why you decided to stay - but I can see it now. With the new house and the pack and everything.” She pauses and bumps his shoulder with hers. “I have to go back to Lima next week, but I’m going to say goodbye to everyone and move back. If that’s cool?” 

She shoves her hands in her pockets and her shoulda go up to her ears. Derek smiles because he can’t help it. A knot unclenches in his stomach. 

“Of course. I really want that.” He looks down at the ground. “I really miss you. I miss everyone all the time. Constantly. But it’s easier when you’re here.” 

“Yeah,” she says. “It is.” 

\---

He hears Stiles come up the stairs and doesn't turn from folding his new clothes on his bed as the door opens. He wishes Stiles would put his arms around him, kiss the back of his neck. Like they're a couple.

It's a stupid thought and he doesn't let it get further than maybe what it would be like to take a nap with Stiles wrapped around him.

"Are those floral prints I see?" Stiles asks, coming over to the bed. He picks up an already folded shirt and Derek snatches it out of his hand.

"I like flowers," says Derek.

Stiles blinks at him and the grins. "Of course you do, prettywolf." Stiles starts to cackle. "Oh my god now I'm imagining you in a flower crown."

Derek frowns. "I probably look great in one."

"I'm sure you do." Stiles sits down on the bed and gestures at all of Derek's stuff. "So why the new wardrobe? And why didn't you invite me?"

"I didn't invite you because Lydia is horrifying."

"Okay that's believable."

"And I just wanted new clothes. I like florals and light colors and I just thought it would be nice."

"I think it will be," says Stiles. He picks up a turquoise shirt and throws it at Derek's face. "Put this on. I want to see you in it."

"No. Why?"

"Because I want to see you in not a neutral color. Come on. I have to go do homework soon. I just stopped by because I knew you were back from the mall."

Derek groans. "Okay, fine."

He pulls his shirt over his head and ignores the uptick in Stiles' heartbeat. He is fairly sure that Stiles is attracted to him. Or that at least Stiles feels some sort of sexual feeling towards him. But he isn't sure if it's any deeper than that. In any case he isn't ready to try and woo Stiles. He has some more work to do.

He pulls the turquoise shirt on and he feels a little goofy in it, like maybe it's too small on him, but Stiles has this weird soft smile on his face.

"How's the dating app working out for you?" Stiles asks.

"How does the shirt look?"

"Good. Tell me how the dating app is."

"It's fine. I'm talking to a few people who don't seem like deviants."

"That's good. Are you thinking of going on dates?"

Derek nods. "Yeah. I think so."

Stiles jumps off the bed. "Cool, dude. Keep me updated." He slaps Derek on the back once. "Okay. I gotta go do work. I'll see you later."

And then he practically runs out of the room, leaving Derek to wonder what actually happened.

There's a knock at his doorframe again and he turns to see Stiles leaning against the door.

"Hey," Stiles says. "I just wanted to ask, when you went out with Scott and Isaac - ?"

"We didn't see or smell anything," says Derek. "I'm sorry, Stiles."

"No. It's cool. It's just me overreacting probably."

"I'll keep an eye out, Stiles."

\---

As Derek is leaving his group meeting someone says, "Derek?"

The man walking towards him is skinnier than Derek, his brown hair is an unruly mop of curls on his head and his round horn-rimmed glasses slip down his nose. Derek has never seen him before and he feels a little guilty for not knowing his name.

He's wearing corduroy pants and a sweater and a messenger bag with an ID clipped to it so Derek is pretty sure that he works there. But Derek can't get a good look at the badge to get his name.

"Hey," Derek says. He sticks out his hand for the guy to shake and the guy takes it with a little too much enthusiasm. "Sorry, have we met?"

The guy shakes his head and his curls shake with him. He smiles. "No. We haven't. But I wanted to introduce myself. I just got hired as a new trauma counselor. I'm Adam Seiro."

"Oh." Derek is still awkward in most social situations. And this guy has really nice teeth. "Hi. It's nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too." Adam scratches the thin layer of scruff on his chin. "I, uh, well - sorry, this place is just really cool, you know. It's really great that you've contributed so much to it. And so much to the community. When I was applying for jobs and trying to move this just seemed like the place I really wanted to be."

"Oh. Thanks. They've really done a great job. When did you start?"

"Just last week."

"And you're liking it?"

Adam flushes. "Yeah. I am." He pauses and scratches his chin again. "I shouldn't keep you, but, um, I'm new to the west coast so maybe you can show me around Beacon Hills sometime."

Derek is surprised to find himself nodding and saying, "Yeah. I'll figure something out."

\---

That night while Derek is lying in bed and Stiles is not there because he doesn't actually sleep in Derek's bed, he gets a text from his dating app.

_Hey, this is Adam. I saw you on here and I don’t know if this is weird, but I’m here too and I just wanted to say hi. So hi. Sorry if this is weird._

Derek’s stomach flutters. He looks over at the empty side of his bed.

 _This isn’t weird_ , he messages back. _Hi_.


	4. Step Four: NEW CAR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2019 F-Type doesn’t actually have a back seat and I was going to go with the Subaru BRZ because it has a back seat, but I like the way the exterior (and the leather seats) of the F-Type better, so actually it’s a made up car that’s a combo of the two, but this story also has werewolves so suspend some disbelief.
> 
> This isn't a long chapter, but shit is going down.

Derek calls Stiles on his way to the dealership. He knows that Stiles doesn’t have a car today, he knows that Stiles is getting out of class and doesn’t have anything for the rest of the day. Maybe he should examine that, especially as he texts Adam and a few other guys on the dating app.  

He has examined it. He knows what it means. 

But also Adam sent him a Supernatural gif last night and it made Derek laugh. Not a lot makes him laugh like that. And Adam gets things. He’s human because Derek really does have a thing for humans, but he’s open to everything. He’s a trauma counselor for many werewolves. He gets things about Derek in a way that other people can’t get if they haven’t been in it with him. 

Stiles answers the phone after a couple of rings. “What’s up, dude?” 

“Do you want to come get a new car with me?” Derek asks. 

“Fuck yeah!” 

\---

Stiles runs his hands over the hood of three cars at the Jaguar dealership before someone comes over to stop them. 

Derek stops in front of the F-Type. He’s been looking at it online for so long. He loves it and he wants it and he’s been trying to come up with a good excuse to get one for a long time. And changing his life seems to make the most sense. 

Stiles kisses the hood before anyone can stop him. 

“She is beautiful,” Stiles says, trying to hug the car. 

A salesman hurries over to them. “Sir, you can’t - “ 

“Can we do a test drive?” Derek asks. 

The salesman looks at Stiles a little too long before nodding. “Yes, but it’s very important that you don’t try to kiss the inside of the car.” 

“It’s going to be tough,” Stiles says, placing a palm on his chest. “But I shall try. I promise you that.” 

Derek rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Whatever. Let’s go.” 

The salesman grabs a set of keys and hands them to Derek. He gets into the cramped back seat, legs pushed up into his chest and puts the papers in his lap. Derek slides into the driver’s seat and Stiles into the passenger’s seat next to him.

It feels right, having Stiles with him in his new car. Derek adjusts the seat into the salesman’s knees a little and Stiles covers his mouth instead of laughing.

“You know how to drive manual, right?” the salesman asks.

“Look at him, of course he does,” Stiles says.

Derek eases the car off the lot, testing the brakes as he goes, and then speeds off down the street. The dealership is on a side road that winds away from Beacon Hills with a bunch of other dealerships, but not much else.

The car is practically silent. Just a slight purr that Derek strains to hear even with his werewolf abilities.

Stiles lets out a whistle. “This is already the nicest thing I’ve ever been inside. And I’m totally counting that time I hooked up with that male model.”

Derek snorts. Everyone knows about the time that Stiles hooked up with an actual male model. He texted them picture of the guy’s Ralph Lauren shoot that was featured in magazines across the country. They made a lot of _Zoolander_ jokes when it happened and Stiles never got sick of it.

Maybe Derek obsessively bought magazines for a while, looking for the guy so he could growl about how smooth the guy looked, how hairless and skinny, long-limbed like Stiles, but less muscular, face too angular. Derek went so far as to make an appointment to get his chest waxed and then chickened out while waiting for his appointment.

He ended up getting his nails done instead.

“What made you decide to test drive a Jaguar today?” the salesman asks from the back seat.

Stiles shoots Derek a glance. He flexes his fingers on his thigh like maybe he’s going to reach out and touch Derek. Let him know that he knows what he’s doing.

“I’ve been looking at them for a while,” Derek says. “My car actually belonged to my sister. So, I’m just moving on to another car.”

“Is your sister okay with that?” the salesman asks with a laugh.

Derek could lie and say that she’s fine with it, but he likes to watch people squirm. “She’s dead.”

“Oh.” The salesman looks down at the pile of papers in his lap. He shuffles them in his hands. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Derek just shrugs. “I’m not getting rid of the other car. It’s just time for me to get something else.”

“Well, you can’t go wrong with and F-Type.”

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous.”

Derek does another loop around the dealership and then heads back. He already has his insurance all figured out when he gets back so he just has to fill out the paperwork and then swipe his card. He has enough money to pay for it outright and cleared it with his bank. The salesman raises his eyebrows when Derek says he’ll pay in full, but doesn’t comment.

On the way out, Derek tosses the keys to the Camaro to Stiles and says, “Drive it back to the house, but we can talk about you borrowing it if you need it.”

Stiles’ face lights up and he jumps at Derek, throwing his arms around him. “Dude!”

“I’m not giving it to you,” Derek says. “You just don’t have a car, so you can borrow this one for now.”

“Dude!” Stiles says again and kisses Derek on the cheek. “You’re my favorite werewolf.”

“I better be,” Derek mutters. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, his face goes funny for a minute, like something is making him sick. “Is anyone going to be around? Maybe we can talk or make dinner or something.”

Derek swallows. “I think it’s just us for a while.”

“Cool,” Stiles says. He squeezes Derek one last time. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

\---

Derek takes the long way home, back road all the way around the preserve to the house so he can just drive the new car. It’s so smooth, so easy. The Camaro has been feeling a little iffy the last few years, louder than it was when he got it. It’s old and 2009 Camaros weren’t made to last that long.

Laura loved the Camaro so much. She bought it after their parents died, totally unsure of what to do with their parent’s money. He forgets sometime that she was only eighteen. She was just a kid and she had to protect Derek and protect herself and try to understand what was happening with her family.

She bought the Camaro because she thought that buying a fast car would somehow put a damper on the grief. And they spent nights on the run, sleeping in the back seat, changing out the license plates, keeping to back roads because they were scared of being pulled over and killed.

He drove back to Beacon Hills on his own in that car. He carried half of Laura’s body in that car. Peter stole the car and drove it for a little bit. Stiles stole it and drove it more than once. Derek bled out in the back seat too many times to count. Jackson and Isaac and Erica and Boyd all healed back there from whatever injuries were inflicted upon them by the monster of the week.

He looked for Erica and Boyd in that car. He laid their bodies in the back seat. When Stiles was possessed he looked for him that car.

The most intense parts of Derek’s life are in that car.

It’s okay to break away from it. Letting go of those times, of the guilt that still crushes him sometimes, doesn’t mean that he’s forgetting it. It just means he’s letting himself live. He needs something that’s his own. His own slightly reckless purchase. His own impractical car.

His phone rings and Derek wipes hastily at his eyes before hitting the button on the steering wheel letting him answer his phone.

On a practical level, the Camaro was built before people had Bluetooth capabilities in their car. Being able to answer the phone on the steering wheel alone is enough to make this car worth it.

“Hi, John.”

Derek still can’t get over calling the sheriff by his first name, but he insisted sometime after Derek came back. Derek is sure that John knows exactly how Derek feels about Stiles and asking Derek to call him John was a show of acceptance.

“Why was Stiles driving your car?” John asks, frantic sounding. Derek’s heart shoots into his throat. 

Something is wrong. Something happened to Stiles. Something happened to Stiles in his car.

“Derek, why was he in your car?” 

“What happened?” 

“He was hit - it looks - he’s hurt. He’s not doing well. You need to - don’t know, Derek. Meet us at the hospital.” He pauses and let’s out a breath. “Please.” 

“Yeah,” Derek says, nodding even though John can’t see him. “I’ll be there.” 

“If he - I know he doesn’t want the bite and I know they’re getting him to the hospital, but if he needs it, Derek.” 

Derek takes a deep breath. His eyes are stinging with tears even though nothing has happened yet. He hasn’t had to make this decision. He hasn't considered biting Stiles in years. Stiles would be a perfect candidate for the bite, a perfect werewolf. Smart and quick and ruthless. 

Stiles doesn't want it. 

“Yeah, of course,” Dere says. “I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.” 


	5. Step Five: Go On A Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some hospitaly car accidenty stuff in this one, but nothing gory. Also I am a coffee lover and it pains me that this version of Derek doesn’t like coffee, but Derek is taking care of himself and he likes sweet things. He can’t help it.

Parrish is at the accident site when Derek gets there. He has his hands on his hips and directs deputies with terse words and head movements. He’s become a much more serious officer than he was before and the hell hound thing keeps people from crossing him.

But he breaks into a smile when he sees Derek and then frowns again when he realizes how inappropriate it is.

The Camaro is…

It’s nothing.

It’s just a twisted hunk of metal on the side of the road. The whole front looks like it was torn off and it’s lying in the road about twenty feet away from them. There’s a wheel down the road a little way and the smell of burnt rubber, blood—Stiles’ blood—pain—Stiles’ pain—and fear—Stiles’ fear—acrid in the air.

There’s blood smeared across the driver’s seat and dripped across the ground. Derek presses a hand to the center of his chest. Maybe he’s made a mistake not talking to Stiles about his feelings first. Maybe he should have been talking to Stiles this whole time.

The scene is roped off with crime scene tape and orange cones. But it’s a side road. There aren’t a lot of people coming around anyway.

Derek takes a deep breath, searching for anything that gives away what happened. But he doesn’t see it. He doesn’t smell it. He doesn’t feel it. Someone just ran Stiles off the road. Or Stiles lost control of the car.

Just a car accident.

“I don’t smell anything supernatural,” Parrish says in a hushed voice like no one else was assuming that it was something supernatural as well. Like this isn’t Beacon Hills.

“Me neither,” Derek says. He runs a hand over his face. “I’m going to the hospital.”

“He’s in bad shape,” Parrish says and jerks his head towards the car.

Derek nods. His head feels heavy. “I know.”

\---

Stiles is almost out of surgery when Derek gets to the hospital. His lung was punctured, his left leg pretty much shattered, his collarbone fractured. 

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” John says when Derek gets there. “But he’s going to be okay, I think. The doctors said he would be okay.”

John’s wearing his sheriff’s gear, the jacket and the gun on his belt. But his hair is a mess like he’s been running his hands through it and his eyes are red. 

“I’m so sorry, John,” Derek says. “I was just letting him drive my car home. I got a new car. I didn’t think—”

“Is anyone after you right now?” 

Derek shakes his head. “Not that I know of. I stopped by to—to see if I could smell anything. And there was nothing.”

John nods once. He rubs a hand over his face. “Seems like supernatural stuff is easier to deal with than real people, doesn’t it?” He sighs loudly before Derek can answer him. “I’m going to go grab some coffee. I’ll be back.”

John is gone for too long. Derek waits in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, spread out because he doesn’t entirely fit into one. He pulls over an empty chair so he can put his feet up on it and a nurse comes by and glares at him.

Derek glares until he backs off.

Derek is dozing in his chair when John comes back with two coffees. His brow is more relaxed.

“Stiles is in a room finally,” John says, handing Derek coffee.

Derek holds it between his hands, letting it warm him. Lately, John has been showing Derek affection by buying him coffees and pastries if he’s stopping by the house or the community center, patting him on the back, bringing him in for hugs occasionally. Derek isn’t entirely sure how to react to any of it, but the truth of the matter is that he doesn’t actually like coffee very much and he can’t bring himself to tell John.

The pastries have been really nice though.

So have the hugs.

“He’s—he’s doing okay,” John says. “I have to go make a phone call and talk to the doctor once again, but you should go see him.”

John tells him the room number and Derek thanks him and head off down the hallway. Stiles’ floor is quiet, there are a few nurses working at the large desk, a couple of doctors standing around, looking at charts. But everything is soft, just the gentle beeping of machines from the rooms.

Derek takes a deep breath outside of Stiles’ room before heading inside.

He pulls a chair over to the side of the bed. The room is silent, except for the steady beeping of the many monitors, the drip of his IV. Stiles’ face his bruised and swollen. His arms cut and bruised too, it’s all Derek can see sticking out from his robes, the braces, the wires.

He takes Stiles’ hand and leeches pain from him. So much that Derek nearly passes out from it. Tears burn at his eyes. He sits back when he can’t take anymore and Stiles lets out a little sigh, mumbles something, but it’s impossible to understand through his swollen lips.

Derek did this. He knows that he didn’t do it directly. But Stiles what is in his car. If he hadn’t asked Stiles to come with him none of this would have happened. If he had asked one of the wolves to help him their reflexes would have been faster.

His phone buzzes with a notification and it takes him a couple of second to figure out how to answer his phone and keep his hand in Stiles’ without letting go.

It’s from Adam.

_Hey, I’ve been thinking I’d like that tour of Beacon Hills tomorrow if you’ve got time. Maybe we can get drinks afterwards._

Derek hesitates before hastily typing out a reply with one hand, his other hand is still curled around Stiles’ hand. He feels like someone he’s cheating on both Adam and Stiles even though he isn’t dating either of them.

 _My friend got hurt_. Derek says. It’s not a good enough response. _Can we meet in a few days? Maybe for drinks?_

There are three dots and then Adam responds. _Of course. Whatever you need. I hope your friend’s okay_.

Derek doesn’t respond. He’ll text Adam again in a couple of days. He doesn’t need to response right now.

His phone buzzes again with another text from Adam.

 _I hope you’re okay_.

The door to the room opens and Derek jumps. John walks in and stands at the end of the bed, his feet on the footboard. He stares at Stiles.

Derek pockets his phone. “Hey.”

John drops his voice down to a whisper. “He’s healing.”

Derek nods. “Yeah. He is. He’ll be okay.”

“No.” John shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean. He’s healing where he shouldn’t be. His leg was crushed Derek and it’s nearly fine, just fractured in two places. They cancelled surgery for his leg. How do you explain that? Do you—do you know anything about that? Is that something we should be worried about?”

Derek feels hollow. How can there be something happening with Stiles and he not know about it? Stiles said that he thought there was something in the woods, but they looked.

“Maybe it’s just the spark,” Derek says, searching for anything.

“The official explanation is that he was run off the road by another car. An accident probably and they should have stopped, but they didn’t. We’re on the lookout for another car, but there’s no way to know until Stiles wakes up.”

“What would do this?” Derek asks. “Where’s the motivation? What’s their plan? If they were trying to hurt me, why isn’t someone threatening me? And if they’re trying to hurt Stiles why aren’t they going after him now that he’s here?”

John shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on.” He rubs his cheeks with his hands. “I have to go to the station. Scott and Isaac should be by when they can. Lydia too, but can you stay? Melissa’s going to check in on you both.”

“Of course I’ll stay.”

\---

Derek is dozing again next to Stiles’ bed when Stiles makes a noise. Derek sits up quickly and it takes him a moment to see that the bruises on Stiles’ face have faded a little, his lip is slightly less swollen. It could be the side effects of taking his pain. But it could also be what John was saying. That he’s healing too quickly. He’s healing when he shouldn’t be.

“Stiles?” Derek asks, reaching out and taking Stiles’ hand.

Stiles gasps, fingers tightening on Derek’s hand. His body shudders and his eyes fly open.

They’re glowing.

The same electric blue as the light he held in his palm the night Derek found him at the Nematon. It fades quickly, but not before Derek feels a little shock in his hand.

He tugs his hand away, looking at it, but there’s nothing. There’s nothing wrong with Stiles’ hand either.

Maybe he just imagined it.

“Derek,” Stiles sighs and reaches out for Derek’s hand again.

Derek takes it. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

Stiles lets out a little laugh. His eyes are the bright brown they always are now, but he stares ahead like he can’t look at Derek. “Rough, dude.”

“You need to rest. I’ll call a nurse in to give you some pain medicine. It’ll help you fall asleep.”

Stiles swallows. “I have to tell you what happened.”

Derek nods. “Okay. The police are saying that you were run off the road by another car. Did you see the other car?”

Stiles shakes his head. “There was no other car. There was—I hit something invisible and I just went flying. I don’t remember much. But I remember looking out of your car after I stopped moving. The front was just kind of gone and I was in so much pain. And these two tall, skinny, pale people came and stood over me.”

Derek almost laughs because their lives are weird, but he’s not sure it’s ever been this weird. “What?”

“It’s insane, Derek. They looked like Whites, you know. Like aliens. But I don’t think they were aliens. They were something else. Not human, though. And the male one leaned towards me and whispered something. But I don’t remember what it was. And he touched my forehead.”

Derek’s immediate instinct is to believe Stiles. Stiles wouldn’t lie. But Stiles has a severe concussion. He nearly died.

It would make sense that maybe he dreamed this.

“They were there for me,” Stiles says. “They want me for something. I know that they’re in the preserve somewhere. We have to keep looking for them.”

Derek nods because he’s not sure what else to do. “Okay. I’ll keep looking for them.”

Stiles relaxes and closes his eyes. He squeezes Derek’s hand. “Thanks, Derek.”

“You have to promise me you’ll come stay at the house while you’re healing, though.”

“Okay,” Stiles says, a little smile on his lips. “You can take care of me.”  

\---

Stiles has to hold onto Derek’s arm to get out of the car. Derek basically lifts him up the steps to the house. Stiles might be healing quickly, but he was hurt enough that he’s still not doing well. Scott has a space set up on one of the couches for Stiles, a pile of movies and video games to keep him entertained, all of his school stuff from home. Derek has a spare room set up for him. He has enough room for that. He doesn’t need Stiles to sleep in his bed, though he wishes that Stiles would ask.

Stiles won’t this time. He’s sure of that.

Once Stiles is settled in, Derek changes into running clothes and grabs his headphones. He can’t deal with Stiles in the house and he owes Stiles a search of the woods.

“I’m going to see if I can find anything,” Derek says on his way out the door.

“Even though we didn’t find anything the other day?” Scott asks, from where he’s sitting on the couch next to Stiles.

Stiles gives him a desperate sort of look. The bruises from around his eyes and lip have faded, but Derek knows exactly where they were.

“Can’t hurt to look again, can it?”

Derek jogs out of the house, down the driveway. He stays off the road, sticking to paths and short cuts he knows. He tries to keep a steady pace. The preserve is public property now and there are plenty of people out running along with him. Even though Beacon Hills knows about all of their supernatural neighbors they don’t like being out run by a werewolf.

He stops on the other side of the lake near the house. There’s nothing. No weird smells. Just the usual. Humans, werewolves, familiar scents. Nothing that makes him worried. He thinks he might see a blue flicker of light out of the corner of his eye, but there’s nothing. He wants to find something to explain what’s happening to Stiles. But that’s it.

He takes a deep breath and sends a text to Adam. _Do you still want a tour of Beacon Hills tomorrow?_

And Adam responds almost instantly. _I’d really like that_.

Derek’s stomach squirms with anticipation. He’s not really sure what he’s going to do for Adam. But he texts back, _When are you done working?_

_Five._

_Then I’ll pick you up at six._

\---

Stiles sits in the middle of Derek’s couch with blankets wrapped around himself, his broken leg propped up on the table with a pillow on the heel. He’s got his laptop out in front of him, typing away at something. The bruises on his face are completely faded, but he still winces every time he moves because of his broken ribs and collarbone and his breathing is still labored.

Derek comes down the stairs, dressed in his new nice brown pants and a denim button-down shirt, ready for his date. He puts a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and leeches the pain from him. Stiles tips his head back and makes a contented noise.

“I’m getting spoiled by this,” Stiles says.

“There are worse things,” Derek says, pulling his hand away and wiping it on his pants.

“Why do you look so nice?” Stiles asks.

“I’m going on a date…I think? He said drinks, so I think it’s a date.”

“Oh!” Stiles perks up. “Is it someone from one of the apps?”

Derek shakes his head. “No. He works at the community center. Adam. He’s a trauma counselor.”

“That’s cool.” Stiles nods a few times. “Nice. Are you nervous.”

Derek wrings his hands. “Just a little. I don’t remember the last time I went on a date. I don’t know if I’ve ever been on a date.”

Stiles laughs. “You’ll have to tell me about it when you get back. I’ll probably still be sitting here. Scott and Isaac went to the movies so who knows when they’ll be back. Unless you’re going to like hook up with this guy. Are you?”

Derek shrugs. “Probably not.”

He’s not sure, but the thought of having sex with anyone is a little horrifying right now. He needs more preparation. He needs to think about it longer.

“Well, have fun, Derek. Really. You deserve this.”

Derek smiles, his face going warm. “Thanks, Stiles. I’ll see you later.”

Derek drives the Jaguar to pick up Adam. They do a driving tour of Beacon Hills, Derek pointing things out, trying to avoid the worst parts, but getting them in there anyway. When he gets to the bank where Erica was killed, Adam takes his hand and suggests stopping to get drinks instead.

“Good plan,” Derek says, steering them towards the tapas bar he saw Peter and Chris at weeks ago. They might be insane, but they have good taste.  

“It was your friend Stiles who was hurt, right?” Adam asks on their way into the bar.

Derek freezes. How does Adam know?

“Sorry,” Adam says. “That’s probably weird to just bring up. I don’t mean to sound like I know things. But you talk about Stiles a lot and I’m a trauma counselor. I get to know what kind of trauma is going on. Where I might need to be. I saw that Stiles was in a car accident. Sorry.”

“No.” Derek lets out a relieved laugh. “It’s okay. That’s just so normal.”

“Is it?”

“Normal for us.”

They’re seated out on the patio. It’s a warm fall night and the slightly chilly wind gives them an excuse to sit next to each other, knees close together under the table.

“So, Stiles is okay?” Adam asks.

“Yeah. He’s okay. He’s staying at my house for a while. The pack is taking care of him.”

Adam continues to ask about the pack, asks Derek about his life even though he knows a lot anyway from working at the community center. He tells Derek about his old job in Massachusetts. He doesn’t tell Derek all the details, but Derek infers that something bad happened with a client and he needed to leave. Derek understands that.

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?” Derek asks.

Adam takes a sip of his wine. “Maybe. I don’t know. I think I have to take what I learned there and leave the rest behind me. I didn’t have family there or anything. It was just where I ended up after school.”

“I’ve left Beacon Hills a few times. But I always come back.”

“This is where your family is rooted,” Adam says. “It makes sense.”

“And now I built a house, so I guess I’m stuck.”

“I think you want to stay here.”

“Yeah. Now I think I do. What about you?”

“I think I’d like to stay here for a while. I don’t know if there is where I land, though.”

Derek smiles at that.

At the end of the night, Derek drops Adam off in front of his apartment. It’s in one of the old warehouse buildings where Derek’s loft used to be. Derek doesn’t mention that he killed people here. The date’s been going well so far. He doesn’t want to ruin it by being himself.

Adam looks out the window at his building. “I’d invite you up, but I think that it’d be nice to wait. Maybe go on another couple of dates.”

“I’d like that,” Derek says. And he finds that he really would.

Adam smiles and he leans forward and kisses Derek lightly. “I’ll text you.”

He gets out of the car and Derek watches him go, waving once before he lets himself into the building. Derek leans back against the headrest and closes his eyes.

This might just work.

\---

Derek is woken up by noise on the stairs. He recognizes Stiles’ rabbit-quick heartbeat, but it can’t be him. His leg is broken. He’s needed help walking up to his bedroom the last couple of days. He can barely bend his torso enough to sit down without wincing.

Derek opens his door as silently as he can and peers down the hallway.

Stiles quickly appears at the top of the stairs, leg no longer in a cast, moving normally. He hurries down the hallway to the spare bedroom like nothing is wrong, like he was never hurt, and he shuts his door behind himself.

Derek goes back into his bedroom and sits in the middle of his bed. He checks his phone, hoping for something to tell him why Stiles is just fine, how he healed so quickly, where he could have possibly been coming from.

He has a couple of texts from Adam. Nice things telling him what a good time he had, an article about some French movie they had spoken about.

Derek’s stomach hurts.

There’s something wrong with Stiles.


	6. Step Six: Learn to Bake Bread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek has sex with someone who is not Stiles in this chapter and it’s not explicit because that’s going to come later, but I imagine that it’s very sweet and nice and enjoyable for all parties involved, but I figured we’re also not here for that. So just be warned that that happens.
> 
> This is a long chapter as an apology for not updating this in a while. But I'm traveling in France and a bit jet lagged and fell asleep editing this, so it's barely edited.

Derek is vaguely reminded of the first time he went to a party in tenth grade as he sits at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and waiting for Stiles to wake up. He got drunk with his friends—drank so much that it actually had an effect on him—and came home at two in the morning, loud and stupid. When he woke up the next morning, his mom and dad were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and waiting for him. 

 He lost computer privileges for two weeks, unless it was an assignment for school. 

He doesn’t know what he’s going to say to Stiles. He doesn’t think he can ground him. 

He takes a sip from his mug—the black one with three wolves howling at the moon that Stiles bought him. He takes a few deep breaths. Stiles is healing too fast, he’s seeing something in the woods that no one else can see, he’s sneaking out in the middle of the night. Maybe he went back to the Nematon.

Stiles stumbles down the stairs with his things for school around eleven, his hair still mussed from sleep.

“We need to talk, Stiles,” Derek says instead of good morning. 

Stiles grunts and pours coffee from the coffee maker into his travel mug. “What about?”

“You’re healed.”

He shrugs. “Yeah. I think that it’s got something to do with whatever is in the woods. Have you found anything?”

“I haven’t found anything.”

Stiles pauses in front of the coffee maker and his shoulders stiffen. He doesn’t turn back to Derek. “You don’t think there’s anything.”

“Where’d you go last night?”

Stiles is silent for a while and Derek gets a terrible though: What if Stiles is what’s in the woods? What if Stiles is what’s wrong?

Stiles turns. He doesn’t sit at the table. His tense and his words are clipped. “I’ve woken up in the woods a couple of times. There’s something out there.”

Derek turns this over and over again in his head. “Maybe it’s just—you’ve never—maybe it’s just trauma. Manifesting itself.” 

Stiles is silent for too long. He narrows his eyes and Derek braces himself. Stiles can be mean if he wants to and he looks like he’s gearing himself up for a fight. 

“Yeah because you’re so fucking perfect and put together. Fuck you, Derek.” He points at Derek’s chest. “I’m always fucking right. You know that. No one ever listens to me—”

“We have been listening to you, Stiles! We’ve looked. And we’ve found nothing. Maybe you should just see a therapist and get this figured out. Maybe this isn’t something we can fight with claws.” 

“There’s something out there and it’s after me. How do you explain this shit!” He snaps his fingers and fire appears in the palm of his hand. “What the fuck does this mean if it’s not supernatural.” 

“You’re a spark and Beacon Hills is finally stable. It’s the right time for the pack to gain a new emissary. Your power is manifesting itself.” 

Stiles shakes his head and looks towards the door. “I have to go to class. I’m sleeping at home tonight.” 

He leaves before Derek can say anything and Derek sighs. He’s all alone in the house now. It’s too silent. He flips open his notebook and looks over his list.

The next step is to learn to bake bread.

And maybe he shouldn’t do that. After talking to Stiles he doesn’t feel like he’s helped himself. He feels like he’s messed up. He hates that Stiles is mad at him. He hates that he doesn’t know what’s going on.

Derek finds the tin of recipes in the cabinet by the stove. The one that his dad kept at the vault because it was precious. Family recipes that he wanted stored away so that he could make them with his grandchildren. Derek and Laura and Cora had all made fun of him for doing it. They were nice, but they weren’t as important as all the other things down there.

When Derek found the tin again after coming back to Beacon Hills he had a breakdown. The tin now has a special place on the counter, sticking out like a rusted sore thumb among all the pristine new kitchenware and glistening subway tile. 

He pulls out his dad’s baguette recipe—a modified version of Julia Childe’s—and his lasagna recipe and stares at them for too long. There are neat lists of ingredients in his dads blocky handwriting. 

He shouldn’t have argued with Stiles. He knew that it wouldn’t end well. He doesn’t know why he did it. 

His chest hurts. He wishes that it’s an indication of some health defect. Not the fact that he’s so let down by his own inability to help Stiles when he so clearly needs it.

The phone in his pocket vibrates and Derek jumps. For a split second he wishes it was Stiles. It’s Adam, and something goes a little loose in Derek’s chest. It hurts a little less. Adam is easy.

And that’s the thing of it. Stiles isn’t easy. He’s never going to be easy. Because even if Derek makes himself perfect for him and they fall in love and get married and live happily ever after, there will still be fights and monsters and everything else they’ve been through together. And Derek loves it. He gets a little thrill fighting with Stiles. He loves to argue with him. He loves that Stiles is hard.

But he also likes Adam and Adam will probably leave and Derek will be his best self and he’ll be able to tell Stiles how he feels.

It’s foolproof.

Derek tries not to put any of his anxiety into the sound of his voice when he answers the phone. “Hey.”

“Hey! Is this cool? Can I just call you? I don’t know what the etiquette is.”

“You can call me,” Derek says, leaning against the counter. “What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to dinner again tomorrow night.”

“Actually I was going to bake bread and make lasagna tomorrow. Would you like to come over?”

He can hear Adam’s smile in his voice. “To your place? That’s kind of—I know what that means for wolves, you know.” 

Derek’s heart thuds against his chest so hard he’s surprised that Adam can’t hear it. “You could probably bring clothes for the next day too, if you wanted.” 

“I’d like that. What time should I come over?” 

“Seven. It takes basically all day to make the bread and I want to convince Scott and Isaac to go somewhere else.” 

“Okay. What are you up to for the rest of the day?” 

Derek feels lighter. That was so easy. That was all he needed to do. There was no fighting. No blood. No one died while he was on the phone. He just invited someone over for dinner and everything is fine. 

“Um, I don’t know. Probably stopping by the community center and going on a run.” 

“Could I come on a run with you? Is that weird to ask?” 

Derek lets out a weird breathy noise he can’t stop. “No! No. It’s not weird. Come on a run with me. I’ll come by the community center and let you know when I’m going.” 

“Great. I just want to see you today.” 

“Cool. Yeah. I’d like to see you too.” 

“Okay, Derek. Bye.” 

“Bye,” Derek says a little too soft and hangs up the phone. 

His chest feels full. He’s so conflicted and emotional and scared about Stiles, but Adam just feels good. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do when he feels all those things at once. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to do anything. 

—

The next morning Derek wanders up and down the aisles of the new organic grocery store. He’s looking for flour. His father’s recipe doesn’t have a specific type of flour he should use written on it. Just “flour” written in handwriting that makes Derek’s heart stutter.

“Derek?” 

Derek stiffens. It’s Stiles. He knows it’s Stiles. He could smell Stiles the moment he walked in. It’s only been 20 hours since they argued, but they haven’t spoken. That’s a lot for them. 

“Hey,” Derek says. 

He feels like his should apologize, but the words aren’t coming. 

“I’m sorry,” Stiles says with a rushed breath. “I’m really sorry, Derek. I shouldn’t have—I’m just freaking out. I’m not getting any sleep and—”

“It’s okay,” Derek says. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t doubt you.” 

Stiles shrugs. “Maybe you should.” He rubs a hand through his hair and gestures at Derek’s basket. “What are you up to?” 

“I’m making bread and lasagna. Adam’s coming over for dinner.” 

“Oh, wow.” Stiles nods a few times. “You make bread?” 

Derek shrugs. “I’m going to try. Do you—do you have anything today? Do you want to keep me company while I bake? I could make some extra for you to bring to your dad and Melissa.” 

Stiles nods. “Yeah. They’d love that. And we can talk or whatever.” 

“Exactly,” Derek says. 

—

“So, having Adam over is kind of a big deal.” 

Stiles is sitting at the table while Derek kneads the dough, getting it ready for the first rise. Stiles has his legs crossed, he’s relaxed in a way that Derek isn’t, leaning back against the chair, watching Derek.

Derek shrugs like he’s so cool and relaxed about this. “That’s what he said. Is it a big deal for humans too?”  

“Well it’s like a serious relationship thing. You don’t make dinner for someone you’re just casually sleeping with.” 

Derek blushes. “I’m not—we haven’t, um, done that yet.” 

“What! You haven’t? Why?” 

“We haven’t gone out that much. And, I don’t know, the last like three people I had sex with were crazy. Even Braeden, who was the nicest out of all of them, killed people. I’m just trying to be careful about this.” 

“You’re going to fuck him tonight though.” 

Derek shrugs, but he knows that he’s blushing. And yeah maybe he took a little extra time in the shower this morning, cleaning a little closer, stretching his muscles and his ass. 

“Maybe,” Derek says. “I’m not trying to force anything, but I told him he could stay over.”  

Stiles purses his lips and his scent goes a little blank. Derek isn’t sure what that means. “You’re really serious about this?” 

“He said he’s not sure that he wants to stay in Beacon Hills for forever. And I don’t think I’m ever going to leave. So it’s as serious as you can be knowing that you’re probably going to break up.” 

“I don’t know, dude, you’re worth staying in Beacon Hills for.” 

Derek shakes his head. “That’s really nice, but I don’t know if that’s true.”  

—

As Derek kneads the dough for the second rise, after spending a couple of hours helping Stiles with correcting, Stiles walks around the kitchen slowly, pointing at things, trying to move them with his mind.

“I know that this is a sore spot for both of us, but I’m kind of hoping that I’m gaining telekinetic powers,” Stiles says, pointing at the toaster. It doesn’t move.

“It’s not a sore spot,” Derek says, but he already sounds defensive. “I’m just worried.”

“I know.”

Derek looks back at stiles and gives him a smile. “Do you have telekinetic powers yet?”

Stiles shakes his head. “No. Just the healing and the fire thing. I think—I don’t really know what it is, honestly. It gets stronger every time I end up in the woods. It’s like I’m learning, but I don’t know how I’m learning. I don’t remember learning. I can just do it.”

“Do you think that it’s something bad?” Derek asks. “Why are you so convinced that it can’t be power that you’ve had all along?”

“I don’t know. When is it ever good?”

Derek folds the dough according to his father’s directions. “You’ve got me there.”

“When you’re done do you want to watch _Singing in the Rain_?”

Derek is a sucker for an old timey musical. “Yeah. I really do.”  

—

Derek shapes the loaves, whistling “Singing in the Rain” to himself. His father would roll his sleeves up to his elbows while he worked, but he’d still end up with flour all over his shirt. He would grunt while he kneaded the dough, throw it down on the counter and work up a sweat. Laura would offer to help, but he’d just shoo her away and tell her that it was good to work hard sometimes.

Derek wipes his face on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asks.

“Yeah. Just thinking about my dad.” He covers the loaves again with a cloth and puts them aside. “Do you want to help me with sauce for the lasagna?”

Stiles nods and gets up from the table. “What do you need?”

“Tomatoes, oregano, salt, the bay leaves, chili power—”

“Chili powder?”

“Yeah. It gives it a nice kick. And I need the ground beef.”

“Okay,” Stiles says, still skeptic about the chili powder.

Derek crushes a whole bulb of garlic and throws some into a skillet with olive oil and then instructs Stiles to brown the meat, throwing in some salt and pepper while he does. Then he cuts up the tomatoes, peels them, and throws them into his big metal pot with more garlic and olive oil. He stirs, adding in a little water while the tomatoes get soft, and Stiles pushes the meat around with a spatula.

“Is this like engagement chicken?” Stiles asks. “Sex lasagna?”

“Well you’re bringing some home for your dad, so no,” Derek says and Stiles lets out a loud laugh.

“Fair enough.”

Stiles’ eyes are bright, his cheeks are flushed from the heat of the stove. Derek could kiss him, it would be easy. They’re cooking together and that’s intimate, the way their shoulders keep brushing. Derek would kiss him and he’d turn off the stove because he wouldn’t want it to burn and he’d tell Adam not to come over and Stiles would bring him upstairs and they would make love—or something very cheesy like that—and then Stiles would disappear during the night and Derek would be worried and he’d confront Stiles about it and they would fight and Stiles would leave and Derek wouldn’t apologize.

He sighs.

“So this is all your dad’s recipe?” Stiles asks. Derek nods, but doesn’t say anything else. “I don’t know that much about your dad. We know so much about your mom, but your dad existed too.”

Derek can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips. “Yeah, my dad existed too.”

“He cooked for you guys?”

“Sometimes I would help, but Laura and Cora were never great at it. My mom was a horrible cook. My dad had to go somewhere one night and my mom had to make dinner and she made this horrible soggy pasta.” Derek laughs. “We ended up ordering pizza.”

“I can’t imagine your mom failing at anything.”

“She failed at a lot of things. She was powerful, but not good at everything.” Derek stirs the tomatoes, adds in a little more water. “But Dad was the one who took care of us, made sure we had what we needed. That’s why he and Mom worked so well together. They were a partnership. It’s what—packs need that.”

“My mom did all the cooking.” Stiles focuses on the meat instead of looking at Derek. “She did everything. My dad was always so busy, becoming sheriff and working long hours. It all fell on her. When she got sick there were a couple of weeks where we just didn’t eat normal meals or do laundry or clean the house and then I realized that I had to take over. I had to make sure she had a clean place to come back to. I had to be able to make her food because I knew that she couldn’t.”

Stiles pauses and Derek opens his mouth a few times to say something. He doesn’t know what to say. He reaches out and squeezes Stiles’ arm, just above his elbow and Stiles leans into him, rests his head on his shoulder. Derek sees Stiles almost every day and it’s hard to remember that Stiles is slightly taller than he is, filled out from fighting evil since he was sixteen. Sometimes Derek forgets that he’s not the same tiny, annoying kid he first met.

“This can’t be in my head,” Stiles says softly. “There had to be someone there when I crashed. There has to be a reason that I’m going into the woods. Because if it’s all in my head, Derek, then I’m getting sick like my mom, or it’s the Nogitsune. I can’t survive with either of those.”

Derek reaches over and turns off the burner under the pan full of meat. He wraps his arms around Stiles and lets Stiles lean into him, head on his shoulder, breath warm against his neck.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do, Stiles. I’m sorry that—”

“It’s okay.” Stiles clutches him tighter. “We’ll be okay.”

—

Stiles leaves later with a small lasagna for his dad and a baguette wrapped in wax paper. Derek puts the lasagna and the bread back into the over, keeping the temperature low so it stays warm, but doesn’t burn. He cleans the kitchen, sets two places at the end of the large farm table, tells Scott and Isaac to stay away for the evening, and then goes upstairs to take a shower.

He’s nervous. He doesn’t know what to wear, he doesn’t want to be overdressed for his own house or underdressed for a date. He hasn’t had sex in a long time, he’s not sure he’s even all that good at it. Well, he thinks he’s good at it, but what if he’s been lying to himself all this time?

Braeden would have told him. She’s the nicest girl he’s ever dated and she wasn’t even that nice.

Derek is still standing in front of the mirror, trying to decide which floral shirt to wear, when he hears the tires of a bike coming up the dirt road. He settles on the blue floral short-sleeved shirt and tight jeans. He checks his beard to make sure that there aren’t any errant hairs and he finds a few grays, just near the bottom of it.

He sighs. It’s probably years of stress that are turning him prematurely gray.

He is downstairs by the time Adam parks his bike on the porch and knocks on the door. He’s got a backpack with him and he makes a face at Derek when the door opens.

“It’s okay that I brought clothes, right?” Adam says, reaching out and squeezing Derek’s bicep—not in the way that Kate used to do it, not feeling him up, but just a touch of comfort, something nice. “I felt kind of awkward, but I have to work tomorrow anyway and I didn’t want to wear the same clothes.”

“I told you to bring clothes,” Derek says, pulling Adam into the house.

“I know, but I wasn’t sure if you were just being nice. I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do out of the idea that you’re being polite.”

“I wasn’t just being nice.”

Adam smiles. “Great.” He takes a step forward and breathes in deeply. “This smells amazing. And you look so good. I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

Derek blushes. “I’m showing off.”

Adam shakes his head. “You don’t need to. You’re pretty impressive all on your own, without the ability to cook and dress well added in. But I’m happy to reap the benefits.”

Derek doesn’t really know what to say. “Are you hungry? Do you want some wine?”

Adam hums. “Yes and yes.” He makes a frustrated noise. “Oh! I forgot to bring wine myself. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you another time.”

“I’ve got the good werewolf stuff anyway,” Derek says.

“Perfect,” Adam says. He drops his backpack on the ground by the stairs. “Lead the way.”

—

After dinner Derek finds himself on the couch, Adam between his legs, making out leisurely. There was a brief mention of watching something between dinner and dessert—ice cream that Derek bought at the store—and then Adam kissed him with more intent than he did the last time, with the promise that this was going to go somewhere.

Derek loves kissing. He forgets sometimes how much he just loves making out with someone and he’s happy to be under Adam, touching his arms and his back, kissing and talking to each other. Adam asks questions between kisses and Derek answers between kisses. They’re both hard, but in a way that feels lazy, like they’ve got all the time in the world to take care of it.

“You’re a really good chef,” Adam says and then presses a kiss to the side of Derek’s neck. It feels illicit. “I’d have you over so I can make you dinner, but I’m not any good. But maybe you can come over and cook for me?”

“I’d like that,” Derek says.

“And I can’t believe you made bread. It was so tasty. It must have taken a long time.”

“It did. But Stiles kept me company.”

Adam hums into a kiss. “You and Stiles are really close.”

“It took a while, but yeah, we’re pretty close,” Derek says, trailing his hand up Adam’s spine.

Adam shivers, shifting against Derek. “He’s doing okay now? After the accident?

Derek freezes. He doesn’t know what the official story is. Everyone has to know that he was nearly killed. They have to know that he should be resting up, but he’s not. He doesn’t know what it’s supposed to tell Adam.

“It’s complicated,” Derek says.

“I get that,” Adam says. “Want to go upstairs?”

Derek nods, his stomach swooping. “Yeah. I really do.”

—

Derek wakes up to the sound of someone running towards his house. He recognizes the panicked heartbeat. The scent of fear.

He bolts upright, ignoring Adam's sleepy protests as he rolls away from him. He jumps out of bed and barely remembers to put on sweat pants before heading down the stairs.

Stiles starts pounding on the door and Derek yanks it open to find Stiles covered in dirt, eyes wide and scared. He's wearing pajamas and his shirt is torn across his abdomen. He's bleeding.

"Stiles." Derek tries not to sound angry as he pulls Stiles inside but it's hard. Not that he's actually angry at Stiles, but more angry that this could happen to someone he is supposed to be taking care of. "Get inside. Come on."

Derek pushes him towards the big farmhouse table and seats him at the end, in the seat closest to the stove.

"Tell me what happened," he says. He pulls the kettle down from its shelf and searches through the cabinet for relaxing tea.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asks.

"Making you tea. And then I'm going to get you new clothes and then you're going to sleep here."

Stiles nods. "Oh."

"You're bleeding. Can you fix it?"

Stiles looks down at his stomach and nods. "Yeah. I can do that."

There's a flash of blue light as Stiles knits his skin back together.

"What happened?" Derek asks. "Are you okay?"

"I woke up in the woods. I don't know what happened. But I went to bed at home and woke up next to a tree. I freaked out and ran here."

"Did you have anything with you?"

"No. I don't know what happened."

"Do you feel okay?"

Stiles shrugs. "Scared."

"But okay?"

"Yeah. I'm okay."

The kettle starts spewing steam and Derek takes it off the burner before it whistles. He puts out a tea cup and fills it with hot water before adding a bag of lavender tea. He sets it down in front of Stiles and sits next to him. He checks him over for anything that could tell him what happened, but he doesn't see it. Stiles has bags under his eyes and his shoulders droop.

"Come on," Derek says, nudging the teacup close to Stiles. "Drink up."

"What if it's him?" Stiles asks. "What if it's the Nogitsune?"

"It's not," Derek says. "You destroyed him, remember?"

"Yeah, but what if he's back. I don't even know if he can really be destroyed.

"You're not hurting anyone. You aren't creating chaos. You're okay. I'll help you figure this out."

"Or what if I'm sick?"

Derek lays a hand on Stiles' arm. "Then we'll figure that out too."

Stiles gave him a weak smile and takes a sip of his tea. He shudders.

"God, I hate tea."

A noise at the stairs startled them and they both turned to see Adam descending the stairs in Derek's boxers. He blinks sleep out of his eyes and Stiles sits up straighter.

"Der?" Adam asks. "What's going on?"

"Oh," Stiles mumbles. "I guess I won't ask how your date went."

"Stiles needed help," Derek says to Adam. "Do you want tea?"

Adam shakes his head. "I just didn't know where you were."

There's a pounding in the hallway and the down the stairs as Scott sprints down to them. He pauses next to Adam.

"Stiles!" He jumps to the bottom of the stairs and then runs over to them. "Buddy, are you okay? Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," Stiles says, eying Adam distrustfully. "Can I borrow some PJs?"

"Yeah. Of course, dude. Are you sleeping over?"

"Is that cool?"

"Yeah come sleep with me." Scott pulls Stiles up and they head back towards the stairs together. 

"I'll fill you in," Stiles mutters to Scott.

Derek takes a moment. Adam still hasn't moved from the bottom of the stairs. He's looking at Derek curiously and Derek pretends not to notice it until he pushes himself up from the table. He walks over to Adam and snaps the waistband of his underwear.

"So you're an underwear thief?" Derek asks with a playful smile. He doesn't know what else to do. Adam literally has a degree in analyzing people. He's got to know that Derek is in love with Stiles.

Adam laughs and starts up the stairs. "Only out of necessity. Mine are not in good shape.”

Derek's stomach swoops and he flushes all the way down to his shoulders.

Adam bumps his shoulder when they get into Derek's bedroom. The light from Scott's room is shining under his door and Derek stares at it as he shuts his own bedroom door. He imagines Stiles telling Scott what happened. It's stupid to wish that he had something with Stiles that no one else got. But he at least wishes Adam wasn't around so Stiles would crawl into his bed instead.

But that's not what it is and Derek and Adam are getting in to bed together and Adam is really great and attractive and smart and nice and Derek should be grateful that he's not scared of him. He should be grateful that he can lay on his back and Adam can lean over him and his heart doesn't hammer away in his chest because of fear.

"You're a really good alpha," Adam says, stroking a finger along Derek's hairline.

"I don't know if I'm really their alpha," says Derek. "I was gone for a long time."

"They act like you're their alpha. I mean those two at least. How many more in your pack?"

"Maybe four more," Derek says, realizing he's not sure. "We've lost a lot."

Adam nods. He had a professionally honed sympathy face and Derek doesn't hate it.

"Was there anything wrong with Stiles?" Adam asks.

"I don't know. We’ll figure it out."

“If there’s anything I can do, I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks.”

Derek leans forward and kisses him, ending any conversation there.


	7. Step Seven: Dry Clean Your Leather Jacket

After Adam leaves for work in the morning, Derek puts on his running clothes and heads downstairs. Stiles is still asleep in Scott’s room. He has class that afternoon, but he has time to sleep off the night before. Derek stops by the door to listen to the evenness of his breathing and curses himself for being a creep. He’s trying to rid himself of that habit, but it’s been hard, especially where Stiles is concerned.

Maybe he should tell Stiles that he’s pretty sure he’s in love with him. He and Stiles trust each other, they rely on each other, they look out for each other. But that doesn’t mean Stiles loves him. Yeah, Stiles occasionally smells like lust around him, but so does the girl at the checkout counter at the grocery store, and that guy who works at the Olive Garden, and that old lady who bumped into him in the park. 

It doesn’t mean much other than that Stiles is attracted to him physically. Stiles has had as much time as he has to figure it out. Maybe Stiles could be the one who says something.

And on top of all of that, this thing with Adam is nice. It’s just nice and easy and Adam cuddled up next to him last night and didn’t ask him anything else about supernatural things or the Nematon, just asked him how therapy was going and if he had any projects in mind since he’s done restoring the house and building the community center.

Derek is pretty sure that he doesn’t deserve a lot, but he thinks he might deserve nice. For a little bit at least.

He doesn’t run once he’s outside, he barely makes it to a jog. He walks and walks and walks until he finds himself in the clearing with the Nematon. He takes large steps around it, looking for a crack, for anything. He stands on top of it, trying to feel what Stiles feels, taking deep breaths to scent the air.

There’s nothing. It doesn’t even feel alive like it once did. It just feels like an old tree stump.

The trees rustle and Derek tenses, turning towards them.

Peter’s scent has been funny since he came back from the dead. It’s like there’s a void where his scent should be. Derek knows that he bleeds and he breathes and he has sex—Derek wishes he didn’t know that. But he doesn’t smell like death. He doesn’t smell like he’s rotting or decaying or like an old, empty house. He’s just nothing.

Some part of Peter died in that fire. And another part of him died when Derek killed him. So maybe whatever’s left isn’t really alive and isn’t really dead. It just is. And it’s close enough to the original Peter that Derek wants him nearby.

“What are you doing out here, Derek?” Peter asks in that serene way, like he already knows.

Derek sits down on the edge of the Nematon. “Have you seen anything weird out here? Smelled anything weird?”

“Is this about Stiles?”

“You know that it is.”

Peter sits down next to Derek and shivers like he can feel the Nematon even though Derek can’t. “He’s acting strangely.”

“I know.”

“Not just because you have a boyfriend.”

Derek shakes his head. “I don’t think he cares that I have a boyfriend. I don’t think he’s jealous.” Derek scratches his beard for something to do, but it doesn’t really itch. “He’s more powerful—the spark is more powerful. He thinks that there’s something wrong and I want to figure it out, but I don’t know if there is.”

“Stiles is usually right.”

“I know, but I’ve tried. I’ve looked for something wrong, so has Scott and Isaac, even Chris.”

Peter hums. “Chris.”

Derek chooses to ignore that. “None of us have found anything, Deaton hasn’t been around since the party so we can’t go to him.”

Peter tilts his head from side to side. “Maybe it’s not something, maybe it’s nothing.” He shrugs and stands. “Well, I’ve got a lunch date. See you around, Nephew.”

Peter walks off into the trees, leaving Derek to mull over what he said.

—

Derek makes a grocery list that afternoon, then a list for home depot. When he was growing up his parents had a garden in the back yard for vegetables and herbs. The front of the house and around the lake are beautifully landscaped—Derek brought someone in to do them—but there’s a patch in the back big enough for a garden. It’s a little too chilly to do anything with it, but there’s enough room on the back porch to do a raised flower garden and he’ll build an enclosure.

He drops his jacket off at the dry cleaner, giving it a little hug before he goes and wrinkling his nose at the smell, and heads to Home Depot. An old woman working there helps him pick out wood for the enclosure and screens to stretch over it once it’d done. She tells him to come back with measurements and they’ll do glass panels for when it gets colder. She tells him to go around back and take some pallets.

He smells Stiles before he sees him. He’s lifting a few pallets into his arm to load into the back of the truck—he couldn’t bring the Jaguar for this trip—and Stiles stumbles out of the woods, looking a little worse for wear.

Derek is about to call after him, check if he’s okay, but Stiles just darts back into the woods. So Derek, obviously, follows. Stiles moves quickly, like he’s running from something or looking for something. Derek stays a few steps behind so he doesn’t alert Stiles to his presence.

They make it all the way towards a little river, winding it’s way through the preserve when Stiles stops. He crouches down and reaches out towards a plant Derek doesn’t know the name of. Not because it’s rare or strange, but just because it’s something that’s always around, something that seems inconsequential.

Stiles plucks it from the ground and stands.

“I know you’re there, Derek.”

Derek steps towards him, but doesn’t get too close. “How?”

Stiles turns to him and Derek lets out a breath of relief. Stiles looks normal. No glowing eyes, no weird tilt of his head. He’s just Stiles. Just doing something he probably shouldn’t be.

“I don’t know,” Stiles says. He wiggles his fingers. “I’m really aware of you now. That’s one of the new things. I just know where you are. That’s from last night, I think. I woke up and knew you weren’t there, but I knew you had been. I know you were at the Nematon. What were you doing there?”

“Looking for something to help.”

Stiles nods and takes a step closer. “Did you find anything?”

Derek shakes his head. “No. Just Peter.”

“How was Peter?”

Derek shrugs. “Being Peter." He gestures at the plant. "What's that?" 

“Something to help,” Stiles says with a little smile, like he’s telling himself a joke.

He’s close now. Derek could bow his head and kiss him. He shakes the thought from his head. “Do you need a ride?”

Stiles lets out a breath through his lips as if blowing through a straw. “Yeah. Can you drop me off at school?”

—

In the car, Stiles curls up in his seat. He’s not small anymore, but he manages to draw up his body up onto the seat and make himself tinier. He rests his chin on his knees.

“I’m just tired, Derek,” he says.

Derek reaches over and rubs his hand across Stiles’ shoulder. “I wish I knew anything, but I don’t even know what would make this happen to you. Nothing other than the spark.”

“I know it sounds crazy, but I know there was someone there during the car accident. But I don’t even know how to figure out who it was. I’ve looked at all the books. I know all the lore. There’s just nothing. And if I can’t do it, then I don’t know where to start.”

“I’ll ask Deaton.”

“I already tried. He’s not around.” Stiles twists around so he can see through the back window into the bed of the truck. “What are you building?”

“A garden on the back porch, I think.” He pauses. “I’m trying to be better.”

Stiles lets out a little snort at that. “You _are_ better, Derek. You’re a million times better.”

Derek shakes his head. “I don’t think I am always. I made a list.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling this to Stiles. Stiles doesn’t need to know. Stiles especially doesn’t need to know that it’s a little bit for him. “That’s what—baking bread and I got my jacket dry-cleaned and I got the new car and I’m just trying to be better.”

“What’s next on the list?” Stiles asks.

“Watch a movie that makes me cry,” Derek says.

He barely has to look at the list anymore, but he has a picture of it on his phone just in case. Stiles is silent for a bit until Derek pulls up to the school.

“We should have a movie night on Friday,” Stiles says with a nod. “You should invite Adam.”

He walks away from the car before Derek can say anything, before Derek even notices that he doesn’t have his bag with him.

—

Scott and Isaac are sitting at the kitchen table when Derek comes home. They’re bowed towards each other, talking about something important. They sit back when Derek comes in, Scott crosses his arms over his chest.

“I just dropped Stiles off at school,” Derek says, unsure of what else to say to Scott, who is radiating judgment right now.

“Yeah? After spending the night with _Adam_?”

Derek tries to act unphased. “Yes, after spending the night with Adam. Adam is my—I think he’s my boyfriend.”

“Derek,” Isaac says softly with a shake of his head.

“Are you two trying to figure out what’s going on with Stiles? Or is it just me and Stiles?” Derek asks, pointing at them. “Don’t get judgmental on me when you’re not doing anything.”

“We’re doing things!” Scott yells. “We went to talk to Deaton.”

“Who isn’t around,” Derek says and Scott’s face falls.

“You’re—it’s like you’re stringing Stiles along, dude. With this whole thing and with your emotions.”

“I would—if I was stringing Stiles along he would have to—”

Derek doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t know what to say.

“It’s not that easy, Scott,” he says, finally. “Just because you fall in love at the drop of a hat doesn’t mean it goes as easily for the rest of us.” He runs a hand over his face. “I’m going for a run. Are you two going to be around for dinner?”

Scott opens his mouth to argue, but Isaac puts his hand on Scott’s arm. “Yeah,” Isaac says. “We’ll be around for dinner.”

Derek goes upstairs to his room and instead of putting on his running clothes he stretches out on his bed and stares at his phone. He texts Adam, inviting him over for a movie night on Friday, he gets a text from Cora telling him that she’ll be there Friday morning, and then his phone buzzes with a text from Stiles.

Just a short one that says, “I picked out a movie. Get ready to cry.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What movie should they watch, though?


	8. Step Eight: Watch A Movie That Makes You Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things with Derek and Adam are winding down. Will Derek figure his shit out with Stiles? Will he talk about his feelings in a healthy way? Will they ever find out what's going on with Stiles?
> 
> The answer to all of these things is not right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been an actual million years, but here's this chapter! Much longer than it's supposed to be. 
> 
> Also I'm reading all of your comments and I appreciate them! Sorry that I'm not responding. You should know that everything will be okay between Derek and Stiles by the end of this, but Derek still has a lot of learning and growing to do. Even though he feels like making a list and following it as much as he can is going to help him that's not really how it works.

Derek spends the day before their movie night helping Cora carry boxes from her rented UHaul up into her bedroom. After the boxes are moved in they sit on her floor and put together her bed, bookshelves and dresser.

Derek likes this sort of thing. It’s why he built the garden in the back. He gets to work up a sweat doing something other than running away from hunters. He gets to use power tools and be useful and make something. 

He sits on the floor trying to Alan wrench Cora’s bed together while Cora organizes the books on her shelf by subject and then alphabetically.

“So how are things with Stiles and Adam?” she asks.

“Those are two separate questions,” Derek says.

“Are they?” she asks and when Derek gives her a look she groans. “Fine. How’s the thing with Stiles?”

“I don’t know. He’s not good, but he’s not hurt in a way I can tell. It’s just like there’s something wrong and I’m trying to figure out what it is, but there’s nothing. I can’t figure out anything. It feels impossible. It’s like we’re moving so slowly towards something bad and we don’t know what that bad thing is and we can’t stop it.”

Cora scoots across the floor so she’s sitting next to him, leaning her arm against his. “I can try to help.”

“We’re all trying to help. We don’t even know where to start.”

“And what about Adam, dude? What’s the deal with that?”

“He’s coming over tonight. For movie night.”

“To meet everyone.”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“To meet Stiles.”

“I think he’s met Stiles,” Derek says, though he can’t remember. Maybe he just assumes that everyone in Beacon Hills knows Stiles.

“Isn’t that going to be weird?”

“No. It’s not like—Stiles and I don’t have a history.”

“Uh, yeah, you do. You have the most history. Also, why are you dating Adam this seriously?”

“It’s not that serious. He’s going to leave. It’s just easy.”

“But you want to be with Stiles. Like, if Stiles walked in here right now and was like ‘put on a suit, we’re getting married’ you’d go for it.”

“That seems extreme.” Derek says instead of telling her that yes, he would do whatever Stiles wanted. And that’s the problem. He needs to know what he wants. He needs to learn things about himself. He needs to learn those things in a safe environment. “Stiles wouldn’t do that. Stiles doesn’t want me like that.”

“Okay. That’s not true.”

“I disagree.”

“Everyone knows it. How do you not know it?”

Derek isn’t sure if he believes her. If he starts to think that Stiles could possibly be pining after him too then he has to rethink his whole plan. He’s supposed to be good enough for Stiles to like him back after he’s done everything. He hasn’t been good enough.

“Why hasn’t he said anything?” Derek asks.

“Because your last relationships were with a bounty hunter, a darach, and fucking Kate. He’s not sure what you want either. And then you just go and date some boring therapist. He’s all thrown off.”

“He helped me sign up for apps. He could have said something.”

“I don’t know, dude. It just seems like a mess to me. You could just talk to Stiles. Tell him how you feel and see what he says.” 

“No. I have rules. I mean—I wasn’t supposed to sleep with Adam, but—I don’t know. I wanted to get laid. But I have steps, Cora, and I have to follow them.” 

“I feel like these steps are a crutch you’re using to make excuses not to be vulnerable.” 

“I’m very vulnerable. I’m the most vulnerable I’ve ever been.” 

“Derek, you literally lived in our burned out home and then moved to an abandoned train. You are the most repressed, self-torturing guy I know. Just talk it out.” 

“I can’t tonight. I can’t talk it out with him now. Adam is coming over.” Derek flops onto his back and stares at the ceiling. “And he’s not—he’s going through some shit right now. I can’t just put everything I’m feeling onto him.” 

“I don’t think he would mind.” 

“Maybe you should move back to Peru. Actually move further away. Japan? What’s the furthest away you can get?” 

“Shut up.” Cora kicks him with her boot. “You’re happy I’m here. You missed me, you sappy idiot.” 

And even if she’s telling him things he doesn’t want to hear, she’s right. He’s so happy she’s back.

—

Stiles brings over _Call Me By Your Name_ because he’s horrible and Derek knows that he’s obsessed with Timothée Chalamet. Derek gets it, but all he could think about the first time he watched the movie was how long and beautiful Armie Hammer’s fingers are and how they might feel twisting into him.

“Get ready to fucking bawl,” Stiles says when he comes through the door with the most Stiles-like grin Derek has seen in a long time. He still looks too tired and too worn down, but it’s nice to see him actually grinning.

“Oh god,” Derek says, taking the movie from him. “I don’t want to hurt like this.”

“You wanted to cry.”

Derek nods. “I did want to cry.”

“When’s Adam getting here?” Stiles asks.

“I’m here,” Adam says, coming down the stairs, adjusting his shirt.

He and Derek took a nap together. Made out a little. Didn’t have sex. Derek feels weird about it right now. After the first time. It was probably too fast, but he wanted it and even though it was so good, he’s not sure he wants it again.

“Hey!” Stiles says. Derek tries to subtly sniff out how Stiles feels about it. Maybe Cora’s right. But Stiles just smells tired and also buzzed with energy somehow. There’s just Stiles. Nothing else. “How’s it going man?”

“I’m going to make sure Isaac and Scott went to get the pizzas,” Derek says.

Cora and Lydia are putting snacks on the table by the couches, Parrish is already drinking a beer and lying in one of the big chairs.

“How’s it going, dude?” Cora asks, giving Derek a _look_.

“Good,” Derek says. “Stiles just got here so we can start soon.”

Lydia wrinkles her nose. “It’s good that we’re all meeting Adam.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s hot,” Parrish says with a smile. “Good job.”

“Thanks,” Adam says, coming into the room with Stiles. They’re both holding beers too and seem to have bonded over something. “Derek, you didn’t tell me that Stiles was getting his doctorate.”

“Oh, yeah,” Derek says.

“We’re bonding over being in school for a million years,” Stiles explains. “It’s nice to finally hang out with someone who is intellectually on the level with me.”

Lydia snorts. She doesn’t have to say that they’re all beneath her. They can feel it. Adam starts to laugh and Stiles does too and Derek kind of hates that they’re bonding with each other. Is it just going to be like this? Is it just going to be okay?

Stiles meets his eyes and gives him a private little smile.

Derek jabs a finger at the kitchen. “I’m going to grab a beer.”

Stiles follows him into out into the mud room where they keep the small fridge full of beer and wine—with everyone living in the house, it’s much easier to have two fridges. “I like Adam.”

“Good,” Derek says. “Looks like he likes you too.”

Stiles bites his lip and nods. “Yeah.”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Stiles says. “I’m just—I keep having these nightmares, but I haven’t woken up in the woods since that night.”

Derek takes a few breaths. “You should sleep here tonight.” He pauses. “Adam isn’t staying because he has to get up early.”

Stiles looks away from Derek, but his scent goes warm. Derek knows that he’s smiling. Stiles is good at hiding his scent, but he doesn’t hide that. He wants Derek to know.

“Okay,” Stiles says. “That would be good.”

Derek nods and takes a sip of his beer. “You can’t make fun of me for crying.”

Stiles lets out a surprised laugh and pretends to be insulted. “I would _never_.”

“You would and that’s why it’s not allowed,” Derek says. “Let’s go get seats before Scott and Isaac get back and ruin everything.”

Derek ends up sandwiched between Stiles and Adam. Cora and Lydia keep shooting him looks because they know how awkward it is, but the other side of it is that it’s kind of nice. Adam and Stiles seem to get along, making jokes to each other, arguing about Armie Hammer’s dance moves (Stiles and Derek agree that it’s deeply sexual, Adam is pretty sure that they’re crazy). They’re all silent and sniffling by the end of the movie.

Adam’s hand reaches out and he laces his fingers with Derek’s, but there’s another hand against his thigh, just resting there. Stiles. Not holding his hand because he wouldn’t in front of Adam. But before Adam he would have. They touched and cuddled and held hands all the time. It was just normal for them. Derek likes to be touched, but he doesn’t like it from that many people.

Stiles knows that.

Derek lets out a breath and stands up from the couch. “I just have to—”

“We get it,” Cora says waving him off. “Go cry silently outside.”

He stalks onto the back porch to grab another beer. He’s only alone for a few seconds before Adam finds him.

Adam’s teeth worry his bottom lip. “How are you doing?”

Derek wipes his eyes on the back of his arm. “I’m fine.”

Adam crowds him against the fridge and kisses him. “It’s very sweet that you’re crying.”

“I wanted to cry, but I don’t like it,” Derek mumbles.

Adam kisses him again and then pulls away. “I’m glad that Stiles is looking better. Have you figured anything out?”

Derek shakes his head. “Still nothing. You’ll know if we find something.”

“Okay.” Adam takes a step back and rubs the back of his neck. “Look, I’m cool with Stiles staying here and whatever. I know that he’s basically your best friend—”

“I don’t know if he’s my best friend,” Derek says too quickly before realizing that Adam is right, Stiles is definitely his best friend. “Maybe he’s my best friend. I don’t think I’m his.”

“I’m just saying that I’m cool with whatever you’ve got going on, but I guess I just want you to tell me what’s going on? Don’t keep me in the dark when it comes to Stiles. I really liked meeting everyone tonight and I liked being a part of this and I want that, if you want me to have it. I want to be a part of your pack.”

Derek is so lucky to have someone who’s kind and wants to spend time with his friends and is understanding of all of his weird stuff. And he’s lucky to have friends that are understanding of it too. Even if Scott keeps giving him weird looks and saying passive aggressive things and Stiles is out wandering the woods and none of them know what’s wrong.

He’s lucky.

And he’s taking advantage of it.

“The pack is forever,” Derek says, looking down at his feet. “Do you want forever?”

“I think that I’m willing to think about it.” Adam nudges the bottom of Derek’s chin. “Do you ask everyone you date if they want forever a month in?”

“Most people I date try to kill me.”

Adam laughs. “Can I get back to you on the forever thing?”

Derek lets out a breath. “Yeah. Honestly, I’m glad you’re not agreeing to forever right now.”

“I know.” Adam presses a kiss to Derek’s cheek. “I think I’m happy about that too.”

— 

Derek is feeling better about Adam when he crawls into bed that night. And maybe things are winding down with him. Maybe them both agreeing that neither of them want to say forever is the beginning of a nice and easy end.

Derek is just going to have one relationship that was fine. No drama other than whatever he’s feeling about Stiles. No one is going to die because he was with Adam. Everyone will be fine and when it’s all over he’ll look back on the whole thing fondly.

The air shifts and moves with a warm, familiar scent. Derek isn’t at all surprised when his bedroom door opens and Stiles lets himself inside, shutting the door behind himself with a soft _click_.

Stiles crawls into the bed with Derek and Derek makes room for him. Stiles scrunches up his nose and presses his face into the pillows.

“Adam was in here,” he says.

“Before the movie,” says Derek. “Can you smell him?”

“Kind of. I can smell not you.” He reaches out and wraps an arm around Derek. “I told you. I’m so aware of you now.”

“I wonder why.”

“I think because you’re my alpha.” Stiles’ breath is warm against Derek’s neck. “It’s like—like it’s meant to help you.”

“Cora and I will keep researching tomorrow,” Derek says.

“Did I show you the new thing I can do?” Stiles asks.

Derek shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

Stiles moves his hand and his palm glows with the same blue light, but this time the book on the bedside table floats through the air to them. It flies into Stiles’ hand and Stiles sets it down.

“Pretty convenient,” Stiles says.

Derek doesn’t know what to say.

Stiles drops the book back onto the table. “I’m scared of this thing, but I also really like what it’s given me. I just want to know what’s happening. I want to know who those people were in the car and why they would do that to me.”

Derek nods and pulls Stiles closer. “I do too.”

— 

Derek wakes up in the morning to the feeling of fingers combing through his hair. It’s too nice, too perfect to be Stiles, but he knows he fell asleep with Stiles.

“Morning,” Stiles says when Derek finally opens his eyes.

“Hey,” Derek says.

“Your hair is so long.” Stiles rubs a few strands between his fingers before continuing combing.

They’re so close. They could kiss. Every morning should be like this. Every morning should be lazy kisses and waking up together and Derek’s heart breaks that it’s not that. This is too close. And he hates a little that Adam went home last night and then he let Stiles get into his bed and this is how Stiles woke him up. Even if he and Adam aren’t forever there’s something about this that feels gross.

“My hair grows really fast,” Derek says.

“A werewolf thing.”

“I think it’s a Hale thing.”

Stiles nods and leans towards him. Derek would let him kiss him. He would let Stiles kiss him once and then he’d go over to Adam’s apartment and break up with him like a gentleman and he’d come back and take the whole day off with Stiles and just keep kissing him. They could make out for hours. They don’t even have to have sex if it’s weird because he just broke up with Adam.

It’d all be okay.

“Why are you with Adam?” Stiles asks and Derek’s body goes cold. The warm fuzzy feeling of the morning is gone.  

Derek pushes him away and sits up. Derek doesn’t want to say, “because he’s there” so he doesn’t say anything at all. He just rubs his face with his hands. He’s too tired still, not quite awake enough to have a conversation like this.

“He doesn’t love you,” Stiles says.

“Christ.”

“You don’t love him.”

“We don’t have to love each other. That’s not—not everyone falls in love. We’re having fun together.”

“But you let him in on pack stuff. You let him hang out with us.”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with him? Are you worried about him?”

“No,” Stiles says. “He’s just so _normal_.”

“Maybe I just want normal for a little bit. I told you, I’m trying to make myself better.”

“Do you think normal is better?”

“I’ve done it wrong so many times. Swinging the other way isn’t going to hurt.”

“I can read you now, Derek. I can feel you. Better than anyone else. I know you’re not really happy with him.”

“What do you want me to do?” Derek snaps. “Why would you say that?”

Stiles rubs the back of his neck. “Nothing. I don’t know. Sorry.”

Derek gets out of bed. “We can’t share a bed anymore. This is—it’s killing me, Stiles. We have to stop it.”

Derek walks into his bathroom and shuts the door before Stiles can say anything. He runs the shower cold and sheds his clothes and gets under the spray.

Why would Stiles do this? Why would Stiles start this? Does he know that Derek is hopelessly in love with him? Is he telling Derek that no one is going to love him? That he’s never going to be happy?

He takes his time washing his hair and face. He waits under the spray until his fingers start to prune and his body feels numb and Stiles is gone from his room.


	9. Step Nine: Work In The Garden

Derek doesn’t see Stiles for days after that. He knows that Stiles didn’t say anything about whatever happened between them to Scott because at least Scott isn’t angry with him. Derek feels like an idiot, he doesn’t know why he exploded like that. Why he didn’t try to stop himself. 

He needs to talk everything out with Stiles he just doesn’t know where to start and he isn’t sure if he’s ready.

He also doesn’t tell Adam about Stiles sleeping in his bed. There’s probably a line where it’s appropriate to tell Adam something and inappropriate. And that line is Stiles sleeping in his bed.

After working at the community center a few days after movie night, Derek and Adam go to the nursery to pick up a car load of mums for the garden. Adam’s wearing old jeans and a soft t-shirt so he can help Derek dig up dirt and plant the mums for the end of the season. In the car on the way over he takes Derek’s hand in his.

“The mums are going to look great,” he says.

Derek preens. He can’t help it. It’s so nice to have someone who just tells him flowers are going to look nice instead of things like, “I’m paid to kill people” and “you got the wrong kind of blood for this spell.”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “I think so.”

At the nursery they load pumpkins and mums into the car and when Derek goes to pay the young woman behind the counter she grabs an extra bag for him.

“These are the herbs and seeds Stiles ordered last week,” she says, handing him the bag. “Can you give them to him?”

Derek doesn’t have to open the bag to know that there’s something funky in there. The scent of the plants through the bag makes his nose twitch and his eyes water.

“Yeah, I’ll bring them to him,” Derek says.

Adam takes the bag into his arm to peek inside. “What is it?”

She shrugs. “Honestly, I didn’t know half of the things he asked for and I went to school for this.”

“Do you need me to pay for them?” Derek asks, pulling out his credit card.

“You pay for his stuff,” Adam says and raises his eyebrows.

Derek shrugs. “It’s probably for the pack.”

Adam nods and doesn’t say anything else until they’re back in the Jaguar with the bag for Stiles firmly locked in the trunk.

Adam drums his fingers on his leg. “You take care of Stiles.”

“I guess. Yeah. He’s part of the pack. I take care of all of them.”

“You take care of Stiles more. I know you wouldn’t have picked up anything for Scott.”

Derek grips the wheel tightly. “He’s going through a lot and we got into a fight. I don’t know. I want to take care of him.”

“Yeah, but do you want to take care of him because he’s your pack or because he’s going through something or…because something else?”

Derek’s heart thuds against his chest. “What happens if it’s something else?”

Adam lets out a breath. “I think you should drive me home.”

“Yeah.” Derek puts on his blinker and takes a left towards Adams house instead of going straight towards the preserve. “That makes sense.”

“I really like you and I think you like me, but I’m always going to be second to Stiles. That’s okay, but I don’t think that if we’re actually going to be serious about this I think I shouldn’t be second to anyone.”

Derek doesn’t argue with him. How can he when he’s absolutely right?

Adam gets out of the car at his house and Derek does too. Adam hugs him tightly and Derek hugs him back.

Then Adam kisses him on the cheek. “I’ll see you around the community center, all right? If I left anything at your place—though I don’t think I did—let me know and I can come by and get it.”

Derek expects twisting pain in his stomach at saying goodbye to Adam, at the promise of seeing him at work. But it’s not there. Just this nice calm.

“Should this be so easy?” Derek asks before getting back in the car.

Adam nods. “I think so. We had a good time, right?”

“We did,” Derek agrees.

“So, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.” Derek can’t help the small smile on his lips. “I’ll see you.”

— 

He wants to tell Stiles that he and Adam broke up or whatever it was that they did. Decided not to date each other. Derek is pretty sure he was the one who was broken up with, but he doesn’t feel bad about it. He doesn’t even think that Adam feels bad about it.

When he gets home from the nursery Cora meets him in the yard and they unload the pumpkins and the mums and get to work settling things around the front steps just like their mother used to do.

“What happened to Adam?” Cora asks as they settle in some of the small pumpkins.

“He went home,” Derek says.

Cora puts her hands on her hips and looks up at the house. “I’ll go get some corn for the door and lights for the porch.”

“Just regular fairy lights,” Derek says. “I don’t want any themed stuff.”

“Fair enough.” Cora gives him a smile that lets him know she’s definitely going to get multi-colored lights that flicker and sparkle and blink along with music.

“I think I’m going to go swimming,” Derek says.

“I’ll go buy normal colored lights,” says Cora with an evil grin.

Derek gives her a wave and heads into the back yard.

He strips down to jump into the water. It’s too cold to go swimming, too dark, even for a werewolf. But it’s not so bad and he turns on the lights in the back yard and swims back and forth a few times, washing off the day, the dirt from the garden. 

He’s single again. For the first time in his life he dated someone, had a relationship with them, and it didn’t end with death and destruction. Things with Braeden were the easiest and she still tried to shoot him. 

But ending things with Adam, dating Adam in the first place, it felt good. Something he would look back on fondly. Something he did while trying to make himself better. 

He has to remember that. This isn’t just about being good enough for Stiles, it’s about being comfortable with himself. And he was comfortable with Adam. He was able to ask for what he wanted, what he needed and Adam never shamed him for it. 

He built a palette garden in the back and planted mums like his mother always did. He watched a movie and let himself cry at it. And despite everything with Stiles he feels a tightness in his chest, that’s been there since was fifteen, loosen. Like the coils around his heart expanding. 

He doesn’t stop swimming until he hears the back door open and someone come out into the yard and down to the dock. 

Stiles sits down on the edge of the dock, his legs crossed, and he peers down at Derek. Derek swims over and props himself up on the wood, hanging into the water. 

“Cora told me that she thinks you ended things with Adam,” Stiles says. He looks tired. He’d seemed a little better at the movie night and now, just a few days later, he seems to have backtracked into exhaustion again. 

“He ended things with me,” Derek says. “I just didn’t really fight him.” 

“Why?” Stiles asks. 

Derek wants to point out that Stiles is the one who was saying stuff about Adam a few days ago. It doesn’t really seem worth it now. 

“Honestly, because he knew he would always come second. To the pack.” Derek pauses. “But mostly to you.” 

“Is that why you got mad at me the other morning?” 

Derek nods. “It wasn’t fair of me to do that. I just—I got overwhelmed. I started—I wanted to do this for myself and somewhere along the way it got skewed into being mostly about you and proving to you that I could have a normal relationship.” 

Stiles smirks at that. “Do you think any relationship between us would be a normal one?” 

Derek laughs. “No. Not at all.” 

“So,” Stiles says. “What now?” 

Derek takes a deep breath, gathering courage. “I like you, Stiles. I mean, I’m pretty sure that I’m in love with you.” 

“I feel like you’re going to turn around and say something not great. But you should just stop there because I’m pretty sure that I’m in love with you too.” 

Derek can’t help smiling at that, but he shakes his head. “I can’t go from Adam to you without at least trying to do some more of this for myself. And we need to figure out what’s going on with you.” 

Stiles stands. He looks down at Derek. “I guess I’ll have to woo you.” 

“Woo me?” 

“Yeah. You’ve proved you can break up with someone without getting shot. So now I’ll prove that I’m worthy of your love.” 

“Um, you are?” 

“Shut up, Derek. I’m going to woo the shit out of you. And then when you’re ready to actually date me I’ll be here.” 

“Stiles, you’ve got bigger things to worry about. What were the herbs I got for you at the nursery?” 

“I’m a great multi-tasker, Derek. And those are for lucid dreaming. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on. I’ll keep you updated. But now I’ve also got to go make a wooing plan. I’ll see you around.” 

He gives Derek a wave and starts walking away. 

“You don’t have to woo me!” Derek yells after Stiles. “I’m already wooed.” 

“Nope!” Stiles shouts. “I’m going to woo you so goddamn much, Derek.” 

He heads back to the house, leaving Derek alone in the water. 

—

A few nights later it’s the full moon. Derek shifts into the wolf and runs and runs. The last couple of days have been quiet. Just working at the community center, avoiding Adam or giving him awkward waves when he sees him, trying to do research on what might be happening to Stiles, attempting to contact Deaton, and being wooed. 

Stiles’ method of wooing isn’t altogether sane. He brings Derek knitted mittens and a loaf of bread one day. He texts Derek bad poetry. He keeps asking if it’s working and Derek keeps assuring him that he already likes him and he doesn’t need to do anything to woo him.

Derek runs far into the preserve, until he can’t smell his pack anymore, until the trees become dense, so closely packed he’s not sure any humans have ever been here.

He slows at the flicker of light, like fireflies in the dark, but bluer—the light from Stiles’ hand comes to mind.

He stays low to the ground as he approaches, unable to smell anything.

It’s not just that it doesn’t smell like anything. It’s the total absence of scent.

He comes to a clearing, lit up by the full moon and the floating blue lights. The lights are something else up close.

People, iridescent and transparent, walking around and around something in the middle of the clearing.

They part.

Standing in the middle of the them, dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt is Stiles.

Stiles turns, eyes glowing. He stares directly into Derek and Derek knows that he’s done something wrong. He can feel it deep inside himself. He’s seeing something he’s not supposed to see. This isn’t really Stiles. This is something else entirely. He’s not even sure that it _knows_ him.

He turns to run.

It doesn’t take Derek long, three strides to get to the edge of the pond behind his house. It doesn’t take long enough at all. He knows that he was deep in the preserve, too deep to be this close to his house.

But here he is at his back door.

The rest of his pack are still out running for the night. And he knows he should go back out with to find Stiles, but a deeper part of him, a base instinct part knows that he shouldn’t.

He transforms back and goes into the house. He texts Stiles and tells him to text him in the morning. And he waits in the dark, for the rest of the wolves to come back, or for Stiles to come running to him.

For whatever’s next.


	10. Step Ten: Talk to Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a short little guy for you! More to come soon!

Derek eventually makes his way up to bed, when Stiles doesn’t answer his phone but Scott texts to confirm that Stiles is okay. He curls up under his covers and closed his eyes.  

He doesn’t have many days like this anymore. He hasn’t in a long time. Days where he can’t get out of bed, can’t be bothered to even eat. He tells himself it’s post full moon fatigue. He didn’t sleep all night and his body needs to recoup on the energy spent the night before, scared and worrying for Stiles. Not sure what he saw, if he even saw it. Asking himself what it means. 

Did something happen to him? Did they do this to him? 

But he knows that’s not true. That it’s just what this is. A wave of depression triggered by whatever happened in the preserve. A deep sense of uselessness. There’s no one to blame for it. Not even himself. It will be gone by tomorrow anyway. He knows that it’s not the worst that it’s been. 

He’s so tired his senses are clogged and he barely notices when someone new comes up to the house. He assumes it’s Scott or Isaac when the front door opens. He manages to open his eyes when his bedroom door creaks. 

Stiles. 

He’s tired too. In gray knit joggers and a sweatshirt that’s somehow too big on him even though he seems to have grown into everything else. He looks like he used to. When Derek first met him and his body was too skinny and his head was too big. 

Derek slides over in his bed and Stiles crawls in next to him, wraps his arms around Derek’s middle and presses his head into his chest. He’s pretty sure that Stiles is bigger than he is now, but right now he feels small. 

“I saw you last night,” Derek says. 

“What did you see?” 

“You were in the preserve, surrounded by these glowing beings. Your eyes were glowing. But it wasn’t you. I don’t know how to describe it, but I knew it wasn’t you.” 

Stiles shudders. “Was it him?” 

Stiles has no idea what’s happening to himself. Derek has no idea. Derek may have seen him, but that’s it’s. That’s all they know. If it was the nogitsune it would be easier. A foe that they’ve fought and bested. 

Now they’ve got nothing. 

“No,” Derek chokes out. “No. It’s not him.” 

— 

The wooing stalls for a few days after that. After a day of rest Derek tries to recount what he saw to Stiles and Stiles desperately tries to remember what he saw. When they can’t draw any conclusions they bring it to the pack, who also have no idea. 

It takes Derek looking of his self improvement list to resolve to speak with Peter. 

He meets Peter at a wine bar downtown and tells him everything over a cheese plate and a bottle of Malbec. 

“Well you know how I’m all scentless.” Peter gestures at himself and Derek nods. “I’m not supposed to be here so I’m lost. I’m a void. Things that aren’t supposed to be here are also lost. So what you’re really looking for is nothing.” 

Derek takes a sip of his wine. “I understand.” 

“Do you? Because I hate spelling things out for you. You know how much I love to be cryptic.” 

“I do. But Stiles still basically smells like Stiles.” Derek and Peter stare at each other a moment. “But if there’s nothing I won’t be able to smell it.” Peter nods, encouraging. “So I have to find it some other way.” 

“Exactly.” 

Derek understands, but he’s not entirely sure that this was helpful. 

Peter drifts into talking about something else entirely. Complaining mostly about the woman living next to him—to “us” is what he really says. And Derek is given precisely three minutes to wonder if he and Chris finally moved into together when Chris shows up and leans over and pecks Peter on the lips like that’s perfectly normal. 

Derek has seen them together every so often, he’s just never been confronted with the reality of the situation before. 

“Oh,” he says. “So you two are actually—“ 

Peter has the nerve to look offended. “Christ, Derek, we’ve lived together for months now.”  

Chris laughs which is amazing, Derek hasn’t seen Chris smile like that in years. Like he isn’t completely broken down and destroyed. 

“What are you two talking about?” Chris asks. 

“Stiles,” Peter sighs. “What else?” 

“I’m trying to find out what’s wrong with him,” says Derek. 

He fills Chris in on what happened in the preserve two nights before and all the other things that have been going on. Chris flinches just a little when Derek mentions that he’s sure it’s not the nogitsune. But Peter still runs a hand over his shoulders and down his back. 

“It probably has something to do with the nematon. With the power from it.” Chris takes a few breaths. “I’ll look into what I have.” 

“I’m worried about him,” Derek says. “He looks so tired. It has to be hurting him.” 

“We’ll all help,” Chris says. “You know that.” 

“Despite everything,” Peter says. “It turns out we all care deeply about each other and it probably goes doubly for Stiles.” 

—

It’s dark when Derek gets home, but Stiles is sitting on the front steps, staring at his phone. Derek walks up and takes the seat next to him. 

“I brought you this,” Stiles says, handing Derek a small, flat box. “To woo you.” 

“You don’t have to woo me,” Derek says, but he takes the box anyway. “You have me.” 

“Honestly, it’s all I’ve got right now. I’m taking a little break from school. They’re letting me take until next semester to figure this shit out. And I’m so tired and I have no idea what we’re looking for. Let me woo you. It makes me feel a little normal.” 

“Okay. It’s not a hardship. Letting you woo me. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to.” 

“I don’t.” Stiles nudges his arm. “Open it.” 

Derek opens the box and pulls back a couple of layers of tissue to reveal a tiny framed piece of paper. 

A list. 

It’s in Derek’s handwriting. Car parts, a scribble that says “stop riding the breaks,” and a mileage for changing the oil. 

“What’s this?” Derek asks. 

“When I was possessed by the nogitsune you fixed my car. Do you remember?” 

Of course he remembers. 

“You left this on my front seat to tell me what you did. And I didn’t find it until after, but I—I couldn’t get rid of it.” 

Derek leans over and kisses Stiles fast. Just once, a quick brush of their lips, but Stiles gasps. He reaches out for Derek, but doesn’t chase the kiss, just digs his fingers into Derek’s shirt. 

“Thank you,” Derek says. 

“I thought that—I mean this is really long term for us, right? Like if this is going to happen I think it’s forever.” 

“Yeah,” Derek gasps. 

“Like eventually I’ll move out of my dad’s and I’ll move in here and we’ll share your room and decorate and that’ll go somewhere.” 

Derek swallows and nods because he can’t say anything. And he kisses Stiles again, slower this time. Just enough to taste his lips, get a feel for Stiles’ mouth under his. 

“I still want to go slow,” says Derek when they break apart. “Even if that’s the endgame. I still have a lot to work on.” 

“I don’t mind slow,” Stiles says. “I think slow is good for both of us right now.” 

Derek stands and reaches out a hand for Stiles. “Are you staying for dinner?” 

“I’d like to. We don’t have to—do you mind if I stay the night too?” 

“I don’t.” 

Stiles takes his hand and stands with Derek. “Great.” 


	11. Step Eleven: Show people that you love them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how sometimes you get caught up in a lot of work and then you get super depressed and just don’t write anything except for like one thing for a while? Well I think I’m out of that? Who knows. Anyway, here’s a new chapter! And hopefully there will be even more new chapters! 
> 
> Also I’m trying this thing where I write everything in comic sans because someone on Twitter said it works and let me tell you, it really and truly works. 
> 
> Thank you so much for commenting and kudos-ing. I really appreciate it and read every comment, sorry I don’t respond to all of them, but I get a little bogged down! But thank you thank you thank you!

Derek jolts awake in the middle of the night covered in sweat. He runs hot, but he never sweats, not like this, not sheets-drenched, mouth-dry type of sweat. 

He settles back down just for a moment before realizing that he shouldn’t be alone. Stiles should be in bed with him and he’s gone. Derek tries to calm his breathing, focus on Stiles’s scent, the sounds in the house.

He can’t hear Stiles’s heartbeat and whatever there is of his scent is lingering, not fresh.

He thought maybe…he doesn’t know what he thought. That it would be easier now without Adam out of the picture? Maybe if he and Stiles were together for real things would make sense?

But this has nothing to do with Derek and Stiles or Adam or anyone else. There’s something going on with Stiles and Derek can’t fix it by being his boyfriend.

He pulls on a shirt and heads out of the house.  

He follows Stiles’ scent through the preserve, to a clearing that he’s never seen before in a part of the preserve he rarely visits. Stiles is alone, standing in just his t-shirt and pajama pants, no shoes. He doesn’t even turn when Derek enters the clearing, just stands, staring.

Derek is scared to touch him, unsure what might happen. Stiles’ powers are strange and unpredictable at best, volatile at worst. He doesn’t want to hurt himself _or_ Stiles.

Derek puts a hand out and says Stiles’ name once, then louder when Stiles doesn’t turn.

Stiles’ body relaxes and he turns for just a moment with a questioning, “Derek?” before he collapses towards the ground.

Derek catches him, pulls him up into his arms. His skin is cold from standing outside without shoes and a jacket, but not dangerously so. Derek holds Stiles close and heads off towards the house. He should be spending time trying to figure out why Stiles is out there in the first place. What’s wrong with him. But right now it seems like exhaustion more than anything. Stiles just needs to rest.

He stirs as Derek nears the house and presses his face into Derek’s shirt, his fingers tighten in the fabric.

“I’ve got you,” Derek says.

“What happened?” Stiles asks.

“I found you out in the preserve.”

Stiles swears. “Well, I’m glad you found me.”

By the time they’re at the house, Stiles is awake, asking Derek to let him down. He winces when his bare feet touch the ground, but with a wave of his hand and a flash of blue light, the cuts on his feet are healed.

He sways a little like it’s taken too much out of him and Derek steadies him.

“Everyone’s asleep,” Derek says. “Let me help you get in the shower and then we can go to bed.”

Stiles gives him a weird smile. “You’re going to help me shower.”

“I’m going to help you get in the shower. Because you look like you’re having trouble standing.”

“You’re still going to help me shower.” Stiles tugs at Derek’s sweatshirt. “Get in with me. I need help standing.”

Derek takes a few breaths. It’s not that he doesn’t want to get in the shower with Stiles, it’s more like he doesn’t know where it will lead.

“I don’t want to have sex right now,” Derek says. He doesn’t look Stiles in the eye, he doesn’t want to see disappointment there, judgement, any of it.

Stiles doesn’t let go of Derek’s sweatshirt. “You just found me wandering around the woods, dude. I just want to get clean and go to sleep.”

Derek reaches past Stiles and turns on the shower. “Okay.”

It’s so simple. Derek keeps waiting for it to not be simple, but maybe this part of it, the actually being with Stiles part, and saying what he intends and what he wants can just be easy.

They undress and Stiles pulls him under the warm spray of the shower. He doesn’t really get the opportunity to look at him, to take in his body because Stiles dumps body wash into his hands and starts soaping them both up, washing the dirt from his body and the day off of Derek’s. It’s a very practical shower, they’re there to get clean, not do anything else.

Stiles pours shampoo into his hand then and works it into his own hair. Derek stands back and watches as Stiles rinses it and then pours more in his hand. He gestures at Derek.

“Can I wash your hair?” Stiles asks.

“Yeah,” Derek says and he squirms when Stiles pushes the cool shampoo into his hair.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Stiles says, still massaging his hands into Derek’s scalp. “But it’s not going to go anywhere. I just can’t help it. Is that okay?"

Derek wipes water out of his eyes and nods.

They’re naked together in a small-ish shower. He can feel all of Stiles against him, his cock brushing against his hip, their chests bumping together. But Stiles lays a soft kiss on his lips and scratches into his hair again, still washing the shampoo from it.

He pulls Derek forward and under the spray from the shower so that he can wash the shampoo from his hair. He presses kisses to Derek’s clean jaw, to the space between his neck and his shoulder and Derek imagines he must taste just like tap water.

His body is taut just from Stiles’s kisses and he knows that if he really gave into it that they wouldn’t stop. They’d keep going until they fell into Derek’s bed together and he doesn’t want that. Not right now.

He puts a hand on Stiles’s chest and Stiles takes a step back. “I think we need to stop.”

“Good idea,” Stiles says. “Do you want to go to bed?”

“Yeah.”

Stiles gets out of the shower and shakes himself off, his ass jiggling all over the place.

“Try not to stare,” he says and grabs a towel. "I know my ass is irresistible." 

Derek is happy to lie and say, "It's fine." 

Stiles lets out a laugh, wraps a towel around his waist and leaves the room.  

—

Derek wakes up alone again, but it’s later in the morning and he’s not gasping and sweating and twisted in his sheets. He blinks awake, rested and calm and he can hear Stiles’s heart beating—fast like a rabbit like it always is—downstairs somewhere, smell his scent, warm and homey around his bed.

He changes and heads downstairs. Stiles is wearing his pajama pants and one of his t-shirts and they’re somehow too short on him, but too big at the same time. He’s sitting at the table with Scott, Cora, and Isaac, hands wrapped around a mug.

“We’re talking about research,” Scott says. “For Stiles.”

“You know, since I’m possessed or something,” Stiles says without looking Derek in the eye. And for the first time Derek is suspicious that Stiles isn’t telling them everything.

“You’re not possessed,” Derek says. He grabs himself some coffee and sits at the table, closer to Isaac than to Stiles because it’s difficult to sit close to him without touching him.

“We’re going to search the preserve today,” Scott says. “What are you doing today, Stiles?”

“I have to go to school and finalize some things for taking a leave of absence.” He frowns. “I’m kind of dreading it.”

“Do you have to leave?” Derek asks.

Stiles nods. “I’ve missed too much. If I just take a leave of absence for the rest of the semester it’ll look less bad when I’m applying for jobs. It’s easier.”

“Are you going to the community center today?” Scott asks Derek.

Derek grimaces. He has to go and he knows that he’s going to see Adam and that he’s going to have to be an adult. He is pretty sure that he can be an adult. He just doesn’t want to deal with it.

“Yeah,” Derek says. “I’m going.”

Stiles sips his coffee.

“You’ll ask around,” Scott says. “We’re going to do this with some good old-fashioned detective work.”

“My favorite kind of work,” Stiles says.

“Awesome,” says Scott. “We’re going to do this, Stiles. We’re going to figure it out.”

Under the table, Stiles’s foot touches Derek. Derek can feel the unease from him and he meets Stiles’s eyes. He’ll have to wait until later to talk to him about what he’s not telling them.

“I think I’ll probably stay at home tonight,” Stiles says and Derek is sure that he’s telling him something, but he doesn’t know what it is.

“You sure, dude?” Scott asks. “You know my bed is always open to you.”

“He slept in Derek’s bed last night,” Isaac says.

Stiles scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. I think probably I’ll just sleep at home tonight.”

— 

“Why are you taking me out to dinner?” Cora asks after they sit down.

He came home that afternoon from the community center, after hours of avoiding Adam and sitting in on group therapy and an art class and poking his head in on a ballroom dancing class and being roped into dancing with an old lady. He asked a few questions, an innocent “Have you seen anything strange lately?” and “Have you been out to the preserve?”

No one’s seen anything. And most were pretty sure that he was talking about Stiles, so it went downhill fast. He got home, hungry and tired, and Cora was sitting on the couch watching more _Say Yes to the Dress_ and he just wanted to be with her.

They ended up at the wine bar where he saw Chris and Peter not on a date that time, a little in hopes that he might see them again, just to confirm his suspicions.

“Is it weird to get dinner with your sister?” Derek asks.

“We don’t get dinner just the two of us. Not since I moved back, at least? Is this who you are now? A guy who’s sentimental and stuff.”

“I’ve always been like this.”

“You were an asshole when you were a teenager.”

“Yeah, well there were some pretty big life events.”

Cora freezes and then she lets out a loud laugh. “Fair enough. What’s up, favorite big brother?”

“Only big brother.”

She gives him a sickly-sweet smile. “Best big brother. How’s Stiles?”

“I don’t know.”

“How are things between _you_ and Stiles?”

“Good, I think. Slow, but that’s good. That’s what I want.” Derek takes a gulp of his wine. “I think Stiles is lying to us about something. Or not telling us something. I don’t know. I got a weird feeling today.”

“Why don’t you just ask him?” Cora asks. “You’re supposed to be Mr. Communication now with your being a better person plan and whatever.”

“I’m still not great at communication.” He thinks back on what Stiles said over breakfast. “Oh, I guess maybe he wants me to come to his dad’s house tonight? Or—he let me know he’d be there.”

“He probably wants you to come over,” Cora says. “Are you his boyfriend now?”

Derek shrugs. “Who knows. He says that it’s forever and I agreed so I guess so.”

“Sounds like you’re engaged.”

Derek’s face and neck go warm. “I don’t think it’s gone that far yet. We’re taking it slow.”

“You’re going to married next year and still say you’re taking it slow.” She pauses. “He probably wants to like fuck you in his childhood bed or something. It’s probably a fantasy of his. What a weirdo.”

Derek glares at her. “We’re taking it slow,” he repeats.

—

Derek walks up to the Sheriff’s door and pauses. He knows that John likes him now. He knows that it’s not a problem anymore, but he’s always been worried that John will decide that he’s Bad with a capital B and kill him. Probably for something Derek does to Stiles.

He doesn’t think John will know that he and Stiles showered together two night ago, but there’s no way to be sure.

He lets out a sigh of relief when it’s Melissa who opens the door. Melissa is scarier than John, but at least she wouldn’t murder him.

“Are you looking for Stiles?” she asks.

Derek nods. “Yeah.”

“He and his dad are out back,” she says, standing aside to let Derek in and pointing towards the back door. “You can interrupt them, they’ve been out there for a while.”

“Thanks,” Derek says.

She squeezes his shoulder. “Grab yourself a beer on the way out.”

Derek finds himself a beer in the fridge and pops off the top. He feels bad interrupting Stiles and his father, but Stiles turns and smiles at him when he steps out.

“I knew you were here,” Stiles says.

John stands and drains his drink. “I’ll let you two talk.”

“Sorry for interrupting,” Derek says.

“It’s no problem,” John says. “I have to help Melissa clean up from dinner anyway. You should come over earlier next time and eat with us.”

“You should make him cook for you,” Stiles says. “Derek doesn’t want anyone to know, but he’s really good at cooking _and_ baking.”

“I’ll bring food next time,” Derek says.

“I’m looking forward to it. Don’t say out too long it’s getting cold.”

He slips inside and closes the screen door behind him. Derek takes his seat. Stiles gives him his crazy closed-lip smile, face lit up by the motion sensor lights on the back porch.

“Hey,” Stiles says, reaching out and taking Derek’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I wanted to see you.”

“I can feel you now, you know. I don’t know if you can feel me too.”

“Not any more than I’ve always been able to.”

“What do I smell like to you? You smell like the fall to me.”

Derek holds Stiles’s wrist to his nose and takes a deep breath. “Cinnamon and yeast.”

Stiles lets out a loud laugh at that. “That might be the beer.”

“It might be.”

“I can feel that you’re worried about something too. You want to talk to me about something.”

“I don’t think you’re telling us everything,” Derek says. “And I want to help. I believe you and I don’t know what to do and you have to tell us everything.”

Stiles drums his fingers on the table. “I’m—I told you that there was someone at the crash—these…people? I don’t know what they are really. They looked like people, but different, long and really beautiful in a weird way.”

“You told us that.”

“I keep seeing them,” he says. “They’re giving me these powers.” He opens his palm and the blue light appears. “And I think I’m supposed to say no to them, but I really like it.”

“Why do you think you’re supposed to say no?”

“It just can’t be good, can it?”

Derek knows that it absolutely can’t be good, but he’s been known to be wrong. “I don’t know.”

“It feels a little like something I’ve always had, which can’t be bad, but it’s so weird.” Stiles squeezes Derek’s hand. “And—I know that this is really, _really_ bad, but sometimes during those times when I wake up in the middle of the woods, I swear I can hear my mom’s voice.”

Derek gets that more than anything. He would do anything to hear his mom or his dad or Laura again. He would go through whatever he needed to if he could just hear them one more time. But it can’t be good. The dead don’t come back and when they do it’s bad.

If anything, Peter has taught them that one.

Derek kisses Stiles’s hand, holds it against his mouth. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll have a meeting with the pack and figure it out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for leaving kudos and comments I love it more than anything! 
> 
> If you have a moment please consider sending me a cup of [coffee](https://ko-fi.com/planiforidjit). And like, who knows, maybe if I have more coffee I'll write more and also like could take requests or something? Maybe?


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